A Shot in the Dark
by TheDreamyOne
Summary: Whoo hoo! Final Chapter is now up! Donovan finds support from an unexpected friend after being left for dead.
1. A Shot in the Dark - 1

TITLE: A Shot in the Dark

AUTHOR: TheDreamyOne

EMAIL: sdjollybellsouth.net

ARCHIVE: Fanfiction.net

SUMMARY: Donovan finds support from an unexpected friend after being left for dead.

RATING: R – some sexual content

TYPE: Romance

SPOILERS: none that I know of...

DISCLAIMER: UC:Undercover is the property of NBC (Bastards!) and Shane Salerno, etc. No Infringements intended.

Chapter 1

Caitlin woke from a sound sleep with a start. She glanced at the digital clock beside her bed...1:00 a.m. She wondered what the noise was that woke her. "There it is again," she whispered when she heard a light tapping from the screened porch at the back of her house.

"Probably just the wind," she told herself as she tightened the sash on her light blue terrycloth robe. She padded barefoot down the stairs, through the living room and stopped when she reached the kitchen.

She approached the French doors that led to the screened porch. Nothing appeared to be there, but it was so dark. She could hear the waves as they lapped onto the beach. She loved her house with its secluded, private beach, but there were times she hated living alone, and this was one of them. The noise from outside had stopped. Perhaps it had just been her imagination. At least, that was what she hoped.

Holding her breath, she switched on the outside lights. Nothing was visible, and she released her breath nosily. "Thank God. It was just my imagination."

Caitlin shrugged, "I'm up, might as well enjoy the moonlight." She opened the French doors and proceeded to the screen door that opened to a small path that led onto the beach. She slipped on a pair of sandals that were always by the back door for just this purpose. Never can tell what you might step on in the sand at night.

Caitlin opened the screen door and stepped through the doorway while looking up at the moon and stars above. "What a beautiful night," she sighed, "too bad I'm alone." Then she let out a small cry as she tripped over something and tumbled the short way down the porch stairs.

She thanked God she hadn't been hurt, only a couple of scrapes, but what on earth did she trip over? She pulled herself up onto her knees and could see something lying on the cement, directly in front of the door.

The "something" groaned, and Caitlin's eyes widened in fear. Should she run to the beach and try to get help? It would be difficult; rock jetties on either side of her house cut off her little beach. That's why she loved it so much; she had all the privacy in the world. Which brought her to a question, how did this person get to her back door? There was an eight-foot wooden privacy fence, and the gate was still securely locked. This person must have climbed the slippery and very dangerous rocks of the jetties to get here.

Another moan. What should she do? She quietly regained her feet, and ascended the stairs slowly, keeping a watchful eye on the stranger. She was halfway to the figure, when it moved. She sucked her breath in; "it" was a man. He had rolled onto his back, giving Caitlin a chance to study the features of his face.

His eyes were closed, showing the long, dark lashes that lay on his cheeks. His chiseled cheekbones were high and his nose was straight and long. His hair, black with a touch of gray at the temple, was cropped short. His neatly trimmed moustache and short goatee that covered his chin, framed a pleasantly shaped mouth, with a full lower lip.

She wondered if she had taken leave of her senses, standing there staring at this stranger. Why was he here? Her eyes traveled lower to his upper torso. That was when she noticed the blood on his shoulder. His dark shirt had masked the blood at first glance, but now she could see the slick, wet stain that spread over his chest. What happened to him?

Her eyes resumed their travels and found another wound on his upper thigh.

"Good Lord!" She exclaimed as she kneeled down beside him. She placed a hand to his forehead. He didn't appear to have a fever, but that was the least of his worries.

His eyes fluttered open at the touch of her cool hand on his forehead. He groaned loudly and tried to move, but his body wouldn't respond. Instead, he gazed into her eyes, the plea for help clearly recognizable.

He heard her murmur something about calling an ambulance and getting him to the hospital. He mustered his strength and grasped her wrist, "No doctors..."

"Mister, you will die if I don't call 911," Caitlin argued. "You are losing so much blood."

"No..." He started to drift into unconsciousness, but struggled to open his eyes again. "Promise me, please." His grip had loosened, but moved to her upper arm and his hand rested there gently. His dark eyes mutely pleaded for her silence.

"I must be insane," she said, shaking her head. Something in his eyes made her want to do whatever he asked. But how could she? "I'm no doctor and those are bullet wounds, are they not?" She felt his back behind the shoulder wound, no blood. No exit wound. She found the same with the leg wound. "That means that I will have to remove those bullets, and I'm not sure I can."

But the stranger wasn't listening anymore, he had passed out. Caitlin shook her head again, then stood and propped open the screen door with a nearby chair. She took hold of the man under the arms and began to drag him onto the porch and into the kitchen. He was a tall man and nicely built, she observed, but he was also dead weight. That made him extremely heavy and hard for her slight frame to carry.

She took a deep breath and made their way to the stairs. She paused a short time to catch her breath and tuck her long, blonde hair behind her ears. It was driving her mad, falling in her face while she struggled with her task. She managed to get the stranger upstairs, dragging him the entire way, the heels of his feet banging heavily against the steps. She took him into the guestroom at the top of the stairs and clumsily pulled him up onto the bed.

Caitlin turned him on his back, straightened his legs, and then made sure his head lay comfortable on the pillow. She had to get the bleeding stopped. She left him for a moment to retrieve a length of rope from the utility closet, and on the way back, she stopped to get a pile of clean towels from the linen closet. When she returned, she fashioned a tourniquet with the rope above the wound on his thigh and then applied pressure to the shoulder wound with a thick towel.

She sighed. "I need to get those bullets out and I can't put it off any longer." She looked down at the unconscious man in the guest bed. He was extremely handsome, she had to admit. Dangerous, she reminded herself. What kind of trouble was he in? If he lived through this, would he just turn and kill her to ensure her silence? Well, Caitlin couldn't abandon him, so it was just a chance she would have to take.

She quickly gathered a small, sharp knife, antiseptic, scissors, thread and a needle. She placed the spool of thread, knife and needle into a pot of boiling water to sterilize them as best as she could. When that was done, she returned to the dark stranger.

"I hope you stay unconscious while I do this," she whispered. Taking the scissors, she gently cut along the seams on both sides of his shirt, which was a black turtleneck. Cutting it from his body was the easiest way to remove it without causing him more pain. When the cutting was done, she gently removed the shirt from his chest, taking note of the firm, taut muscles of his chest and arms. "Get on with it," she admonished herself, but still couldn't stop herself from running a hand over his smooth chest. She gently pulled him up to remove the other half of the shirt from underneath him.

His skin color was dark in contrast with her milky white skin. It was a distinction she rather liked and she wondered about his ethnic background. He had an accent when he spoke, but she wasn't sure of its origin.

Caitlin cleaned the shoulder wound and surrounding area. The bullet left the wound blackened around the edges. She prayed it wasn't too deep, and eased the tip of the knife into the opening and probed gently.

"Thank God!" She cried when she hit metal after delving less than an inch. Caitlin glanced quickly at the stranger's face, his eye's still closed. She slid the tip of the knife around and under the bullet and gave a quick flick of her wrist. She was thrilled when the bullet landed with a thud on the floor. She applied more pressure to the wound, which was now bleeding again. After dousing it with antiseptic, she decided not to stitch the wound. Instead, she pulled the wound together, and fastened butterfly Band-Aids to secure it. She taped the edges of the Band-Aids secure, then covered it with gauze, which she also taped down.

"Now for the other," Caitlin told herself. She removed the tourniquet, thankful that the bleeding had stopped. She bit her bottom lip, she had quite a dilemma. The bullet had penetrated the inside of his upper thigh. She would have to remove his jeans to get to it. Maybe she should just cut the pant leg away. No, that wouldn't work. She would just have to take the jeans off.

Caitlin frowned, noting the button fly of his jeans. She steeled herself and began unbuttoning his jeans. Her eyes flew to his face when she heard him moan, but he was still unconscious. She felt flushed, her knuckles grazing over his maleness, exceedingly uncomfortable with her task. Finally, the jeans were unbuttoned. As gently as she could, she slid the jeans from his hips and down his legs until she could free his legs from them completely.

She knelt beside the bed near his thighs. The bullet was lodged in his left leg. She repeated the process of cleaning and probing the wound, just as she did with the shoulder wound. But due to the proximity of the wound to the juncture of his thighs, it was impossible for her to work on the wound, without bumping or nudging that oh-so-male part of him. At least he wore cotton briefs, but the material hardly kept her imagination in check. Trying to focus herself on the task, she laid a towel over her distraction, then continued to probe for the bullet.

It was lodged a little deeper than the first bullet, and it took more effort to remove it, but she finally worked it to the surface where she could remove it with her fingers. She cleaned the wound with antiseptic, but this one would require stitches. She shuddered at the thought of sewing skin together.

"For heaven's sake, Caitlin, you just dug two bullets out of him. Could stitching a wound be that much worse?" Yet, even as she talked to herself, the bile rose in her throat. Holding it back, she threaded the thick needle, and made quick work of stitching the wound closed. When finished, she cleaned the wound again, and covered it with a bandage.


	2. A Shot in the Dark - 2

TITLE: A Shot in the Dark  
  
AUTHOR: Dreamscape (Shelley Jolly)  
  
EMAIL: sdjollybellsouth.net  
  
ARCHIVE: Fanfiction.net  
  
SUMMARY: Donovan finds support from an unexpected friend after being left for dead.  
  
RATING: R – some sexual content  
  
TYPE: Romance  
  
SPOILERS: none that I know of...  
  
DISCLAIMER: UC:Undercover is the property of NBC (Bastards!) and Shane Salerno, etc. No Infringements intended.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Caitlin sighed. She had done all that she could for the stranger that lay before her in the guest bed. "Stranger," she thought, "I wonder who he is." She turned her gaze to the jeans she had removed from his body earlier. They lay in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. She picked them up and felt to see if there were any contents in the pockets.  
  
Finding his wallet, she flipped it open. The badge and ID drew her attention. "Justice Department," she mumbled. "What are you doing in Calais, Mr. Donovan? And who did this to you?"  
  
Calais (pronounced "CAL-us"), Maine, had become her haven from her former life. Her father, Shane Whitfield had been successful in real estate throughout the United States, and he parlayed his wealth into astronomical proportions through the stock market. He had been a lucky man, until seven months ago when he and Caitlin's mother, Maria, were killed in an automobile accident while driving on the icy New York City streets after a New Year's Eve party. They were struck head-on by a drunk driver and were killed instantly.  
  
In that instant, 26-year-old Caitlin Whitfield had lost her entire family. She was an only child and her father's fortune was now hers. She had instructed the lawyers to sell everything; she had no interest in business.  
  
The only property she kept was the house she now stood in, along with the surrounding several miles of land. It was located in the suburb of Calais, which was approximately 95 miles from Bangor, Maine. She loved the area; the landscape was like no other in the country. With its beaches and cliffs, Maine was beautiful in all seasons.  
  
A moan from Mr. Donovan brought her out of her reverie. She dropped his jeans back on the bed and moved to sit beside him. He was still unconscious; beads of perspiration dotted his face. She was sure the fever she had worried about had set in. His brow was hot to the touch. "Time to get to work," she told herself.  
  
Caitlin went to the bathroom across the hall and retrieved a small basin from under the sink and filled it with cool water from the tap. She grabbed the ear thermometer and a washcloth and returned to Mr. Donovan's side.  
  
Caitlin gently placed the thermometer to his ear to gauge his temperature. After a moment it registered as 103.8 degrees. She quickly wet the washcloth with cool water and softly wiped the perspiration from his face, neck, shoulders and chest. After rinsing the cloth again, she placed it to rest on his brow.  
  
Caitlin repeated the process several times during the next five hours. She spent the time in between wiping Mr. Donovan down, reading "The Stand". It was her favorite Stephen King novel. Well, that's to say when she wasn't admiring his masculine physique. He was extremely handsome, this man that was in her care. She knew nothing of him, except for the strange affinity she felt for him.  
  
Pain. Well, that meant he was still alive. Donovan's eyes opened slightly, surveying his surroundings. He wondered whose room he was in. The walls were painted light blue, and it contained just two nightstands, a bureau and a rocking chair.  
  
The rocking chair intrigued him because it contained a woman. She was quietly immersed in a book, so he could take a moment to study her. She had long, blonde hair, which hung straight past her shoulders. Her eyes, which were fixed steadily on the pages in front of her, were a deep green. She had a small, straight nose, delicate cheekbones and a full mouth. She was perhaps the loveliest woman he had ever seen.  
  
As if she knew she was being watched, her eyes flew from the pages of her book to Donovan. He could see fear in eyes. He glanced down and saw the bandages on his shoulder, then looked back to her. Did she save him? She was so small, how did she manage? Did she tell anyone about him?  
  
Caitlin stood and took a tentative step towards him, her eyes locked with his. She was weary of him, but there was something in his eyes that told her she could trust him.  
  
"How are you feeling, Mr. Donovan?" she asked as she sat beside him and removed the cloth from his forehead and rinsed it in the basin.  
  
"How do you know my name?" he asked weakly.  
  
Caitlin nodded towards the nightstand and he saw his wallet. She placed the cloth back on his forehead, and then reached for the thermometer. "Now, tell me how you're feeling," she asked again while she took his temperature. 102.9 degrees. The fever had come down some, but it was still so high.  
  
"I'm alive, can't ask for more than that," he stated. "Did you take care of me?" When she nodded, he asked who helped her.  
  
"There's no one here to help." She regretted the statement as soon as it left her lips. Now he knew she lived alone; that knowledge made her vulnerable.  
  
He wanted to believe her, but he was a cautious man. However, he didn't have the strength to question her much longer. He licked his dry lips; he was beyond thirsty. And he had the sudden realization that he had to relieve himself.  
  
Caitlin watched as he licked his lips. Something in that small gesture caused her stomach to flutter. She found herself wishing it were her tongue caressing his lips. Then she saw a wave of embarrassment flood his face and wondered what caused it.  
  
"I..." he began, "um..." he started to sit up, but a wave of nausea stopped him.  
  
"What is it, Mr. Donovan?" she asked, helping him to lie back on the pillow. She removed the cloth from his forehead and placed it in the basin.  
  
"It's kind of personal," he smiled. He wondered just how to ask this woman to help him to the bathroom.  
  
"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," she explained.  
  
"Can you help me to the bathroom?" he blurted out and watched as her eyes grew big with understanding.  
  
"Oh." Funny how that was all she could think to say. She pulled the covers back, revealing to him he was clad only in his cotton briefs. She saw his brow arch, but he didn't say a word. Caitlin helped him sit up and held an arm out to him.  
  
He grasped her arm firmly, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Pain shot through his leg, causing him to curse under his breath. He felt her arm go around behind him, holding him from the waist and helped him to stand. He leaned heavily on her shoulders as she walked him slowly to the bathroom at the other side of the hallway.  
  
Caitlin made sure he was able to stand on his own, as he leaned over the toilet, one arm bracing him against the wall. "I'll just wait in the hall," she explained as she backed out of the room and closed the door.  
  
After taking care of the call of nature, Donovan hobbled to the sink and washed his hands. He took a deep breath and opened the door. He smiled weakly at the woman who waited patiently for him and reached a hand out to her. When he felt her arm slide around him, even in his weakened state, he became aroused. He hoped uneasily that she wouldn't notice, since he had no way of hiding it from her.  
  
Caitlin did notice, however, when she helped him back into bed and pulled the blankets over him. She chose to ignore it, telling herself it was just her imagination. The man just had two bullets removed and had lost a lot of blood; there was no way his body was capable of responding in such a way. Yes, it was just her imagination.  
  
Yet in his eyes she could read desire, and for the second time in a short while her stomach did a flip-flop and she felt a strange warmth spread through her, settling in her lower region.  
  
"I haven't thanked you for saving my life," he said, taking her hand in his. "Thank you."  
  
"Anyone would have done the same," she told him.  
  
"No, they probably wouldn't have even come to the door. I still can't believe you brought me up here by yourself," he mentioned, fishing for information.  
  
"Well, I did. Now, you must rest. You've lost a lot of blood." She smiled warmly at him then turned and moved to the doorway, "I'll be right back with a glass of water."  
  
He nodded and thanked her, and then stopped her as she headed out the door. "Wait. I don't even know your name."  
  
She turned and stood in the doorway. "My name is Caitlin. Caitlin Whitfield." She watched as a smile formed on his lips. Again, she thought what it might be like to taste those lips. She shook her head in silent reproach, but smiled back at him. "Rest now, Mr. Donovan. You still have quite a fever. I'll bring aspirin back, along with the water."  
  
To be continued...


	3. A Shot in the Dark - 3

TITLE: A Shot in the Dark  
  
AUTHOR: Dreamscape (Shelley Jolly)  
  
EMAIL: sdjollybellsouth.net  
  
ARCHIVE: Fanfiction.net  
  
SUMMARY: Donovan finds support from an unexpected friend after being left for dead.  
  
RATING: R – some sexual content  
  
TYPE: Romance  
  
SPOILERS: none that I know of...  
  
DISCLAIMER: UC:Undercover is the property of NBC (Bastards!) and Shane Salerno, etc. No Infringements intended.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
She was as good as her word, and returned in a short time with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. She handed him two tablets and the glass of water, then reached a hand behind his neck to support him while he drained the glass. When he was through, she took the glass with her free hand and lowered his head slowly to the pillow and slid her hand from beneath his head.  
  
His dark eyes locked with hers, his expression hidden to her. "Rest now, Mr. Donovan." And to insure that he did, she switched off the lamp beside the bed. With the bedroom door open, the hallway gave sufficient light enough for her to take care of him during the rest of the night.  
  
She took the cloth from the basin, wringing out the excess water. His eyes were still open as she bathed the sweat from his face and brow, watching her intently, his brow furrowed in a frown. She knew he had been worried that she had called the authorities, and she felt the need to reassure him.  
  
She smoothed his brow gently with her thumb as she told him, "I don't know why you are here, or who did this to you, but I promise you that you are safe." She didn't know why she felt the need to protect and reassure him, but she did. "It was against my better judgment, but I have told no one of your presence here. I just hope I haven't hurt you more by not getting you proper treatment."  
  
He reached up and took her hand from his brow and held it to his chest. "You saved my life, whether you know it or not," he assured her, his accent thick as sleep claimed him.  
  
She sat there for a long moment, her hand still clasped in his, held to his chest. She could feel his heart beat, strong and even. For that she was glad. If only his fever would break, she would feel more at ease. Finding she couldn't help herself, she bent and placed a kiss on his forehead, and then she removed her hand from his and resumed her place in the rocking chair.  
  
He dreamt then, in his feverish state. He relived the night he found himself in Caitlin's care. How they got the drop on him, he'd never know. He just remembered getting hit from behind. The next thing he remembered was being hauled out of the black sedan and being tossed in a heap in the sand. He was ordered to stand, and that he did. He knew the ache in his head was the least of his worries. He had several guns pointed at him, very much intent on his demise.  
  
He stared at those men, the three of them were well known to him. So, he had been right about his suspicions all along. There were dirty cops in the Bangor police department. He backed away, until he came to the edge of the cliff they were standing on. He looked behind him, down into the darkness. He hoped it wasn't too far of a drop; it was his only hope. And what if there were more rocks below, instead of sand? Well, then he would surely die.  
  
Knowing he had no choice, and these men were not going to give him a chance to live, he had made his decisions. Slowly he leaned backwards until he felt he was falling. His captors were taken by surprise, but that didn't stop them from shooting at him. Two of their bullets hit their target; thankfully they did not wound him mortally.  
  
He landed on his back with a loud thud, knocking the breath out of him. Sand, and lots of it. How lucky had he been to land in the pebble riddled sand instead of the large rocks just a few feet away. He looked upward, seeing the drop hadn't been that far after all. He could see the three men looking over the edge. He knew they couldn't see him, because he hadn't been able to see to the bottom when he stood where they were.  
  
He waited until he heard the car pull away before he moved. The pain in his shoulder and leg where the bullets had caught him was dreadful, but nothing he couldn't deal with. His training had taught him a lot of discipline in handling all aspects of pain.  
  
He had walked along the beach for a couple of miles before his luck ran out. He came to a wall of rocks that formed a jetty well past the waters edge. He painstakingly climbed the rocks, taking great care in traversing the slippery formations.  
  
He had been sure he was close to death, but he managed to reach the other side. He sat there staring ahead in the darkness, shaking his head. Another jetty, just as high and long as the one he had climbed. He first looked to the sea, no he couldn't swim around the jetty, he didn't have the strength. Then he saw the house to his left. There was a large gate blocking his way to the front of the house. Perhaps someone inside would help....  
  
"Caitlin," he moaned in his sleep.  
  
She was startled out of her light sleep, and jumped from the chair. She reached his side swiftly, lowering herself to her knees. He was covered in sweat. Placing a hand on his forehead she was relieved to feel it was cool to the touch. Thank God, his fever had finally broken.  
  
She had replaced the water in the basin with fresh water, and now wiped the sweat from his face, neck and chest. The sheets and blankets around him were soaked with perspiration. When she looked back at his face, he was watching her thoughtfully.  
  
"Your fever broke," she told him. "You called to me in your sleep." She didn't know why she told him that he did, but she had the overwhelming urge to know why he did.  
  
He nodded. "I was reliving the night you found me."  
  
"Oh." Why was she so disappointed? She shook herself mentally. Why did she even care? She didn't even know him. "Well, if you're up to it, we need to get you out of this bed and out of these wet sheets."  
  
He nodded and slowly sat upright and she pulled the wet blankets from his legs. She helped him to stand and led him from the room. She frowned at him when he stopped outside the door and would move no farther.  
  
"Look, I can't carry you," Caitlin said in exasperation. Her annoyance left as soon as she saw the amused look in his eye. She realized then why he stopped, he needed to use the bathroom. "I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me." She watched as his expression softened.  
  
"No problem." He let her help him into the bathroom and then watched her leave him to attend to his own needs.  
  
He opened the door to find her waiting patiently for him. He was getting quite tired of depending on someone, and was irritated that just relieving himself took all his energy. He sighed when she came to him and slid an arm around his waist. He had to admit, if he had to depend on anyone, he couldn't ask for a prettier nurse.  
  
"What's so funny?" Caitlin asked when she saw him smile. And what a handsome smile, it lit his entire face, even those dark eyes.  
  
He just shook his head and said nothing. She led him to a room at the end of the hall. It was the master bedroom. He noticed a large bathroom to the right, there was a sitting area directly in front of him, and a large canopied bed to the left. Donovan looked at Caitlin with a question in his eyes.  
  
"It's the only other bedroom in the house that is made up," she shrugged. She sat him in an overstuffed chair in the sitting area and placed an afghan over him. Then she moved to the bed to turn down the covers and came back to him to help him to the bed.  
  
Instead, he motioned for her to sit in the chair opposite him, but she chose to sit on the small ottoman in front of the chair he sat, for no reason other than she enjoyed being close to him.  
  
"Is there something you need?" She asked him, concern shown brightly in her emerald eyes.  
  
"No, I just don't feel like lying down," he explained.  
  
She nodded. "Are you hungry? Would you like breakfast?"  
  
He smiled, "I could eat." He was amazed with her more every moment he spent with her. She didn't pry, didn't demand, and only gave of herself. That was rare in this world. It was something he didn't think he would ever see in anyone other than his family. He was a complete stranger to her, yet she took him in and healed him. And he knew he would never be able to repay her kindness.  
  
"Fine, but first, if you feel up to it, we could bathe you," she suggested timidly.  
  
"We?" he almost laughed, but thought better of it. He knew he would likely pass out if he attempted any task on his own at the moment. Not to mention that he would hurt her feelings. "Yes, we, that's fine."  
  
"We have to be careful, you can't immerse your leg or shoulder. After we get you cleaned up, I'll re-bandage you." She left him to run a bath for him in the oversized garden tub of the master bath. It would do nicely, since there was a ledge he could sit on without actually getting in the water.  
  
He watched her turn the water on, gauging its temperature with her hand. When she thought it was right, she put the stop in place to allow the tub to fill. She ventured further in the spacious bathroom, opening a large walk-in closet. She emerged with clothing and placed them on a chair in front of the vanity.  
  
"Well, this is going to be interesting," he thought to himself as she helped him from the chair and led him to the bathtub.  
  
To be continued...


	4. A Shot in the Dark - 4

  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Caitlin turned the water off and then turned her attention to the man sitting on the edge of garden tub. She handed him a small towel and he looked at her questioningly.  
  
"You'll want something to cover with, won't you?" she asked undoubtedly.  
  
Donovan nodded; amusement filled his eyes. He stood slowly and with one hand holding the towel in front of him, the other removed his cotton briefs, letting the skimpy covering fall to the floor at his feet.  
  
Caitlin placed another towel on the ledge of the tub for him to sit on. When she stood, he had turned his back to her and she received a full view of his naked backside. She caught her breath at the sight of his round, firmly muscled buttocks. Every nerve in her body was alive with anticipation. She found herself wanting to touch him. Touch him in ways she had never touched a man.  
  
He had turned then, in time to see the desire that filled her eyes. If he weren't so weak, he would be acting on that desire, he told himself. Instead, he let her help him back down to the ledge, with his back to the water. She sat beside him, facing the water. She asked him to lean back and she supported him so that he would not have to exert himself.  
  
Caitlin carefully doused his head with the warm water from a cup. She then put a small dab of shampoo into her hand and rubbed it into his short hair.  
  
He almost groaned, her fingers massaging his scalp felt so delicious. He found himself relaxing against her, her touch was a comfort and it was also alarming. He lost himself in thoughts of her massaging other parts of his body. "Christ! What's wrong with me?" He scolded himself for letting himself get aroused so easily. And, hell, that manly part of him was announcing itself quite remarkably.  
  
Caitlin rinsed his scalp carefully, not wanting to get his shoulder wound wet or soapy. She touched him lightly on the shoulder and he turned his head to look into her eyes. His gaze was guarded and she wondered what caused that veil to fall over them. She only smiled and asked him to turn to face the water and he did as she asked.  
  
Donovan thought he was in some sort of sadistic hell as Caitlin bathed him. Her touch and that of the thick, soapy sponge was driving him mad. She began with his face, neck and shoulders, carefully wiping the soap without dousing him with water. She cleaned around his shoulder wound without getting it wet and finished his chest and stomach. She carefully rinsed the soap from his chest and stomach. God, he wanted her, and damned his weakened state. If she could bring him to arousal with a sponge, he could sure as hell finish the job.  
  
Caitlin found her breathing labored. She could barely concentrate and she dare not look at Mr. Donovan, for he would surely know she wanted him. She knew it was ludicrous, she didn't even know him, yet all she could think of was his body on hers. It was only because she had been in seclusion for so long, she told herself. Men never had this effect on her before. She told herself to stop acting like a fool and finish the job so her body could get back to normal.  
  
Donovan turned his back to the water again at her command. She was now running the sponge down his back and buttocks. Damn! This agony had better stop soon, or by God, he was going to throw her on the floor and take her right there. Suddenly he felt the sponge being thrust into his hand. She had said something, but he had been lost in the thought of taking care of the ache in his groin.  
  
"I said, the rest you have to do yourself," she repeated when she realized he hadn't heard her. She caught her breath when he looked into her eyes this time; he did not try to mask his desire. "Mr. Donovan..."  
  
"Frank...or Donovan, whichever you prefer," he told her huskily. "Caitlin..." he leaned toward her, very intent on kissing those beautiful lips of hers, but she backed away.  
  
Standing quickly, she said, "You can finish, Mr....I mean, Frank. I'll go start your breakfast. Please don't over do it, you really need to rest." And with that, she fled the room.  
  
"Finish, she says," he muttered, his arousal full in his hand. He wished for a cold shower at the moment. Instead, he focused on other thoughts until the ache in his groin had subsided. He finished cleaning himself; then reached for the clothing she had laid neatly on the chair.  
  
He wondered whom the clothes belonged to as he slid the boxer shorts up his legs, careful of the wound on his thigh. He carried the silk robe back into the master bedroom and laid it at the foot of the bed. He eased himself back into the overstuffed chair, instead of lying back down on the bed.  
  
Caitlin entered the room with a bed tray and questioned why he wasn't in bed, but he insisted he wanted to sit up. She nodded and sat the tray of scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, orange juice and coffee on the ottoman in front of him. She was pleased when he ate hungrily, devouring every bite. When he was finished she sat the tray aside and reapplied his bandages. The wounds were healing nicely, she told him.  
  
After that, she made him go to the bed. He argued with her, but she was insistent, her hands on her hips as she berated him. When he did as she asked, she pulled the blanket to his chest and told him to rest.  
  
"I'm going to take a shower, so you get some rest," she told him firmly. "And don't try to get up. If you reopen those wounds, I'll be very angry with you."  
  
He chuckled, "Okay, okay." When he heard the decided click of the lock on the bathroom door, he knew what she had been thinking. That he wouldn't be able to resist the thought of her showering, her naked body just a few feet from him. And she was right. Already the thought had started his readiness, and he reprimanded himself. Instead he turned his thoughts to what he would to once he was healed enough to confront his assailants.  
  
When Caitlin emerged from the bathroom, she was fully clothed in a light blue sundress and she was toweling her hair dry. She took notice that Frank lay with his eyes closed, but knew he wasn't asleep; his breathing was too shallow. She went to the French doors on the other side of the room and opened them, letting the cool morning air and sunshine flood the room.  
  
She sat on the bed next to him and gently laid a hand on his arm. His eyes fluttered open. "I need to run into town for a few things that I don't have for you here," she informed him. "Is there anything in particular you want?"  
  
"A toothbrush and a razor," he smiled. "This is very thoughtful of you, thank you."  
  
"No problem. I need to take care of something while I'm there, but I'll try not to be too long." She frowned as she watched his expression become dark.  
  
"You're going to the police, aren't you?" he accused her.  
  
"No! I promised you I wouldn't, and I won't." Did she look that dishonest, she wondered. She was sure he had a reason for not wanting anyone to know he was here, and she had given her word.  
  
She placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Frank, I worked too hard to get you well, I'll not do anything to cause you harm." His expression softened and she knew he believed her. "I volunteer part-time at the local library. I just wanted to let them know I wouldn't be in for a few days, that's all."  
  
"Won't they ask why? What will you tell them?" He touched her hand that still lay on his arm.  
  
His touch sent an unexpected thrill from her hand, up her arm and all the way to her toes. "Don't worry, they won't ask. Trust me, I will explain later, in more detail." Her fingers twined with his and she asked, "Do you trust me?"  
  
"With my life." That was true enough, he thought. But he knew she was telling the truth, and he smiled warmly at her.  
  
With that, she left him to his thoughts. He sighed heavily. For the Leader of a Justice Department Specials Operations Unit and former FBI agent, he was behaving like a schoolboy. He hadn't given much thought to women in his life for some time, but now that he had been thrust into a situation where he could not avoid the subject, he gave it some thought now.  
  
Caitlin was a wonder, he thought. She had saved his life, with little regard to her own. If he had been a criminal, then she would have opened herself up to God knows what. But he had to thank God that she did save him.  
  
She had a kind, gentle disposition that only enhanced her beauty. That was something that puzzled him; she didn't act like she knew she was beautiful. He knew many women in his life; those with beauty that dared come close to Caitlin's always flaunted it and used it to their benefit. She flaunted nothing, in fact, was almost timid in some ways.  
  
He relaxed into the soft pillows where Caitlin's head normally lay. He could smell her all around him and drifted into a peaceful sleep.  
  
To be continued...


	5. A Shot in the Dark - 5

  
  
Author's Note: The poem "Passion Builds" is one of my original poems.  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Caitlin returned shortly after noon. She found Frank sitting on the balcony of her bedroom, wrapped in the silk robe of her father. His profile was to her, and my, what a handsome profile it was. His sculpted, striking features made her heart sing. She had to stop thinking this way for he would leave as soon as he was well and she would never see him again.  
  
She silently laid the purchases he had made for him on the bed and moved to stand behind him, placing her hand on his uninjured shoulder. He made no move, other than to raise his hand and place it over hers. She saw now, that the ocean mesmerized him. Yes, it was a beautiful summer day, and the breeze from the ocean cooled the sun's warmth.  
  
He looked up at her after a moment. "You have a beautiful view," he commented.  
  
She sat in the chair next to him and replied, "Yes, I do so love it here. The beaches in Maine are like no other. Of all the houses my family has had, this was the only one I've ever felt was home."  
  
"What do you mean, of all the houses?" he asked curiously.  
  
"Are you hungry?" she asked quickly. After all, it was past lunchtime.  
  
"Are you changing the subject?" he asked just as quickly.  
  
"Not at all, sir. I am only concerned with your wellbeing. I will answer all of your questions, my lord." She bowed her head graciously.  
  
He laughed freely. "You are a treasure, Caitlin."  
  
"I'll be right back with your lunch, then you can ask me anything." She smiled and then left him to run to the kitchen to get his lunch.  
  
She brought him a roast beef sandwich, a pickle and some potato chips. She wasn't sure what he would want to drink so she brought him a beer, a Coke and a bottle of water. He chose the beer.  
  
"Now, about those houses," he reminded her as he bit into the sandwich. Then he quickly added, "Don't you eat? You didn't eat breakfast either."  
  
She smiled. "I had lunch in town, and I don't like to eat breakfast. I had a piece of toast, that was enough."  
  
"Good enough, now, tell me about the houses." He watched her reach for the bottle of water, uncap it and take a long swallow. Clearly she was nervous and didn't want to talk about this subject. He was surprised when she did.  
  
"My parents were very wealthy. We had houses in Miami, Beverly Hills, Dallas and an apartment in Trump Towers in New York. And this house was my family's vacation home." She looked at him, trying to gauge a reaction, but he didn't show one. It was about now that the greed usually showed in a man's eye when they found out she had money.  
  
"Where is your family?" he asked, crunching on a chip.  
  
She sighed, long and heavy. "My family is gone. Dead. Killed by a drunk driver."  
  
Donovan reached out a hand to her for comfort and was elated when she took it. He looked deep into her eyes and read the despair and anguish she was feeling. It tore at his heart, as if her pain was his own. "I'm so sorry, Caitlin."  
  
She nodded and choked back a sob. "Thank you, Frank. It's still a little too fresh, the pain, I mean. It happened this past New Year's Eve. So, I decided to let the lawyers sell everything, the houses, the businesses, everything. This house was all I kept. Now, I spend my time volunteering at the library, which I am a benefactor."  
  
"You must enjoy books." He saw her eyes light up.  
  
"Oh, yes! I love the written word and so many different genre." She was smiling happily now. She found a great deal of joy in reading and sharing that joy with others. "My time at the library is spent with the children. I love helping them choose just the right books, and I read to the younger children."  
  
Caitlin saw him reach to his side and pull out a tablet. She recognized that tablet; she had been scribbling notes and phrases on it the night she found Frank on her porch.  
  
"Did you write this?" When he saw the horror stricken look on her face, he added, "I'm sorry if I upset you, but it was on the nightstand."  
  
"It's okay, and yes I did write it." She was waiting for the inevitable laughter.  
  
Instead he read, "Beyond the sea-kissed sand, above the clouds, far past the purple horizon..." He looked up at her then and saw she wasn't looking at him, but into the distant ocean. Her fists were clenched tight and laid on her lap. "He kisses his love, arms and legs entwine, and passion builds, to heights unknown, and once fulfilled, will crash to earth, to soar again, as passion builds."  
  
Silence was all she heard. Where was the laughter? She never let anyone read her poetry. She had drawers full of poems. They were her private thoughts, her longings, desires and a way to deal with her pain. She felt tears sting her eyes and tried to fight them back.  
  
Donovan waited for her reaction, but was not prepared for her tears. Not thinking about his own pain, he knelt before her, placing his hands on her thighs. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to upset you. Your poem is beautiful. Forgive me for invading your privacy." He begged her. He realized he begged her. He never begged anyone and yet he didn't care. He only wanted her to forgive him.  
  
Then his hands were cupping her face, his thumbs wiping her tears away. She looked at him then and saw what she thought was a tear in his eye. His hands had moved back to her thighs. She touched his cheek lightly and he leaned to her touch then she leaned forward and brushed her lips to his lightly. "It's okay, dear Frank. I've never let anyone read my poems and it unnerved me. Thank you for being so kind to say you thought it beautiful."  
  
Thankful that she didn't hate him, he sighed heavily. He was also remembering the light touch of her lips. So soft. He stood then, slowly and took her into his arms. His hands explored her back, pulling her close. His lips sought and found hers, and was amazed at her response. She molded herself to him, urging him closer until they were meshed together from chest to thigh. When his tongue traced her lips, she parted them, allowing him access to tease and tantalize her tongue. The kiss grew urgent as they explored the depths of each other's passion.  
  
She moaned, at least, she thought she did. Or was it Frank? What did it matter; he was holding her, kissing her, touching her. Her body was aflame with desire, and he fanned the flames mightily. The silk robe had fallen open, revealing his expansive chest. She splayed her fingers across it and pushed away from his kiss and looked into his eyes. There she found a hunger and desire that matched her own.  
  
He bent his head to recapture her lips and cursed loudly when pain shot through his shoulder.  
  
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" She pulled from his embrace when she realized she had absent-mindedly put pressure on his wound when she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck to welcome his kiss.  
  
His breathing was heavy, but from passion, not from pain. "It's okay, Caitlin. Please don't stop." He tried to assure her, but she was having none of it.  
  
She shook her head in attempt to clear the haze of passion that clouded her mind. She backed away from Frank until her back came in contact with the rail of the balcony. "Please, Frank, don't do this." She needed to escape the feelings he stirred in her. She didn't know anything about him and yet she couldn't keep her mind off him.  
  
She fled into the room. "Perfect," she thought upon seeing the bed. Why not just invite more trouble?  
  
"I'm sorry if I alarmed you, Caitlin." He stood behind her, she was staring at the bed like it was going to jump up and bite her. "Nothing will happen that you don't want to happen, I promise you."  
  
She spun on her heel to face him. That was the problem, now, wasn't it? Sheesh, even the sound of his voice caused her to become aroused. His passion caused his accent to become even thicker, and she wondered if he knew that it turned her insides to mush.  
  
Donovan had no idea what to say to her as he watched her pace the room. Her eyes blazed with emotion and he knew he would inevitably say the wrong thing. She finally stopped at the foot of the bed and picked up the packages she dropped there earlier.  
  
"Here," she said, handing Frank the packages. "I picked up a few pair of pants, shirts, shorts and other things for you."  
  
He nodded, taking the packages. "Thank you." He wanted to say more, but she wouldn't even look him in the eye.  
  
"By the way," Caitlin motioned to the door with a hand, "you can go back to the guest room. I've changed the bed linen."  
  
Frank knew he was being dismissed, so he made his way to the door and stopped when he reached her side. "If that is your wish, Caitlin." He smiled 1 dejectedly and left her room.  
  
To be continued...


	6. A Shot in the Dark - 6

  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Caitlin threw herself face down onto her bed and sobbed quietly. She was at a loss as to why she was feeling so strongly for Frank Donovan. Her head told her to keep her distance, yet her heart yearned for him. Her body ached for his kiss, his caress. How, in such a short time, did he manage to invade her body and soul?  
  
She growled angrily at her lack of judgment and pushed herself from the bed. She stomped to her bedroom door like a spoiled child and slammed it forcefully. After pacing the room for a few minutes, she decided to go for a swim. Maybe that would get rid of some of her frustration. She prayed it would.  
  
She donned a purple bikini and a matching cover-up and left her room. She knew Frank saw her pass the guestroom, but she didn't bother to stop and tell him where she was going. After all, it was her home, not his. She flew down the stairs and out the backdoor, as if chased by demons.  
  
Donovan had seen her fly by his doorway and almost called out to her. When he heard the backdoor slam, he walked to the window. He saw her then, running toward the ocean. He sat on the cushioned window seat and opened the windows. He watched Caitlin as she ran undeterred even by the cover-up she shed halfway to the water's edge.  
  
He sucked in a breath when he got a look at her near-naked body. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. She was in the water now, still running. He watched her dive in when the water was deep enough and she swam free-style, moving further away from his sight every second.  
  
Caitlin swam to near exhaustion. The cool ocean water helped to ease her tormented thoughts. She stopped swimming and treaded water; turning to see how dreadfully far she was from the house. Inwardly she shrugged at her stupidity, she was a strong swimmer and she shouldn't have too much trouble making her way back; she just needed to take it at a little slower pace.  
  
After catching her breath, Caitlin began a leisurely swim back to the house. She was three-quarters of the way back when she felt her legs start to cramp. "Damn, stupid, irrational woman." She cursed herself as she tried to tread water and knead the pain from her left thigh. After a few seconds, she began her swim back.  
  
Donovan knew she had gone too far out, but he was in no condition to swim after her. He did make his way downstairs and onto the beach. He was a little shaky from the exertion, but not in too bad of shape. He shaded his eyes and searched for Caitlin. He yelled to her, but she didn't seem to hear. She was treading water from what he could tell, but when her head disappeared under the water he felt panic rise in his throat.  
  
"Thank God," he said when she bobbed back to the surface and released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. She was still too far out for him to help, but that didn't stop him from heading into the water.  
  
Caitlin was in tremendous pain now, barely able to move as another cramp seized both her legs. She pulled herself forward through the water with just her arms now. She sputtered as the salt water sloshed into her mouth and into her nostrils. She was frightened, but determined that she would make it back to the house.  
  
Her body betrayed her determination as a cramp seized her entire body and she was pulled under. When the darkness of the water enveloped her, Caitlin thought about letting go and giving into it. That thought lasted less than a second. Guilt made her fight. She had the strangest feeling that if she died, Frank would blame himself. That thought alone made her struggle to the surface.  
  
Strong arms enveloped her, and helped her walk out of the water and lowered her to the sand. Frank was kneeling before her, a look of desperation on his face.  
  
"Caitlin...," he whispered as he gathered her into his arms. He held her tightly, as though he might never let her go. "That was a damn fool thing to do," he admonished her quietly.  
  
She nodded silently as he massaged her limbs.  
  
Caitlin found she couldn't stop shaking. Not from the cold of the water, or the fear of coming so close to death, but from the touch of his hands on her body. He left a trail of fire wherever he touched her and her breathing became heavy and erratic.  
  
"Do you," Caitlin said, having to stop for breath in-between words, "do you...always go...to the beach...in boxer...shorts?"  
  
Donovan's eyes widened in surprise and then they both lay on their backs laughing at Caitlin's strange observation in light of her near death experience.  
  
"You have a wicked sense of timing," he chuckled as he gathered her into his arms.  
  
She lay on her side, with her head resting on his chest. "I know," she sighed, while he ran a comforting hand up and down her spine. She lifted herself up on one elbow to see his face. "And now for another attempt at bad timing...why are you here, Frank? How did this happen?" She asked him, motioning to his gunshot wounds. It was something she had wanted to ask, but never thought the time was right. It wasn't right now, either, but she had to know.  
  
He closed his eyes then, and when he didn't answer for several minutes, she touched his cheek. When he opened his eyes, she said, "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to. I won't say that I understand, but I can respect your privacy."  
  
Donovan sat up, taking her with him, still holding her within his arms. "Caitlin, it's not that I don't trust you, I do. You've proven to be more trustworthy than anyone I know." He placed his fingers under her chin and turned her head to look into her eyes. "I'm afraid that just my being here has put you in danger. The more you know, the more danger you are in."  
  
"I see. So, you don't want to put me in danger, but just your presence places me in danger." She shook her head at that logic. Just like a man, she thought, trying to make sense and failing miserably. "So, if I'm already in danger, I see no reason not to tell me what happened."  
  
He sighed, "All right, you win. You already know I'm an agent with the Justice Department. The ironic part is that I'm actually on vacation from the undercover unit that I'm in charge of." He kissed the top of her head. "And I will tell you more, but let's get you inside."  
  
"You're stalling, Mr. Donovan," Caitlin accused with slight amusement.  
  
"Of course I am," he smirked. He helped her back to the house and up to her room where he left her to rest after her ordeal.  
  
After a long nap, Caitlin showered and pulled on a pair of gray shorts and tank top. She went downstairs to find Frank, and was surprised to find him in the kitchen making dinner. He had changed into jeans and a navy blue button-down shirt. And, my, didn't he look good!  
  
He turned to her when she entered the room and motioned for her to sit at the table. She did so with a smile. "What's the special tonight, Chef Donovan?" she joked.  
  
"Oh, a very special dish, Milady," he bowed to her flamboyantly and placed a bowl in front of her.  
  
"Oh, goodie....chili," she said as a fit of giggles overtook her.  
  
"Well, it was this or macaroni and cheese," he chuckled.  
  
The phone rang and Caitlin waved at it. "Let the machine pick it up. Nothing should disturb such a grand meal," she smirked.  
  
Donovan nodded and sat down opposite her. He was about to make a snappy comeback about his cooking when the machine clicked on.  
  
"Caity," a male voice spoke to the recorder. "Caity...pick up." The voice paused then added, "Okay, you must not be there."  
  
Donovan was amazed how quickly Caitlin hurried from the table and snatched up the cordless phone from the counter. He tried not to listen, but it was impossible with her being in the same room. He heard her tell the caller "no" and "it's not a good time". She paused for a moment listening to the man at the other end of the line and then said, "I have company"; adding, "No, you don't know..." and was cut off. She was shaking her head now, "no, I don't want you to...I said no....yes, tomorrow night, then. Okay, goodbye."  
  
"Sorry about that," Caitlin apologized. She hadn't really wanted to talk to Randy Meiner, but if she hadn't picked up the phone, Randy was liable to say things she would rather Frank not hear. She had known Randy for years and he only pursued her for her money. Any and all attempts to reject him had fallen on deaf ears.  
  
Donovan shrugged and began eating his dinner. They ate most of the meal in silence, until Donovan could no longer stand the tension. "If you want to call your friend and tell him you've changed your mind about seeing him tonight, you don't have to worry about me. I don't need a baby sitter."  
  
Caitlin almost choked on the spoonful of chili she put in her mouth. She swallowed hard and took a sip of water. Frank looked irritated, but why would he care about Randy? "Frank, if I had wanted to see Randy, I would have."  
  
"Humph," was his only response.  
  
Caitlin smiled. If she didn't know better, she would think he was jealous. "Look, I've known Randy for years, and although he seems to think there's something between us, I have never given him any encouragement." She sighed and pushed the bowl away from her. "He said he needed to see me, so when I asked him not to come over, he asked if I was going to the fireworks display in town and could he see me then. Since I'm going to be there, it will be hard to avoid him."  
  
"Oh." That was stupid, he told himself. Why on earth was he so angry about that call? He knew he was beginning to have feelings for Caitlin, but this was ridiculous. No, it was more than that; it was downright laughable. After all, he would be leaving in a few days. It was highly unlikely that he would ever see her again. Best to keep his feelings out of this. But, damn, he was drawn to her and she was never far from his thoughts.  
  
Caitlin stood and began to clear the table. "Thank you for dinner, Frank. It was delicious." She smiled graciously. "Now, I think you've stalled enough. You promised to tell me what brought you here and in the condition I found you."


	7. A Shot in the Dark - 7

  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Frank watched as Caitlin cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. How much of his situation should he tell her? He rubbed his fingers over his bottom lip and his brow puckered. He didn't want to tell her anything that could get her hurt.  
  
"I'm waiting, sir," Caitlin joked.  
  
"I know, be patient," he said, sighing softly. "I run an undercover operation out of Chicago. My unit just wrapped a case where we discovered one of our own had turned. It was a tough case and my team needed a break, so there I was, on vacation." He went to Caitlin's side to help her. When she smiled at him, he felt his heart pound. He continued, "Only, I receive a call from a friend and former FBI agent who is now the chief of police in Bangor. He has a problem, you see, dirty cops and drug smuggling into Canada."  
  
Caitlin's eyes grew big and she placed a hand on his arm. "Calais is so close to the border, you don't think..."  
  
"No, I don't think they are here. This was a remote area, a perfect place to kill someone. Who would hear the gunshots? How long would it take to find the body?" He shook his head. He still found it hard when cops turned bad. "Anyway, Tom, the Police Chief, asked for my help. I didn't have anything going on in Chicago, so here I am."  
  
"Here you "am" in Bangor or here you "am" almost dead on my doorstep?" Caitlin tried to be flippant, but failed miserably.  
  
"Okay, okay. It didn't take long to figure out who the dirty cops were. I managed to follow them to where they were making their drop. Unfortunately, there was one bad guy too many, and I was hit from behind." He placed his hands gently on Caitlin's shoulders and turned her to face him. "The next thing I know, I'm throwing myself off a cliff to avoid being shot, but they still managed to hit me. That's where you came in."  
  
Caitlin stared into his deep, dark eyes. She wondered how often he came this close to death. The thought was terrifying. "You could have died," she whispered.  
  
His hands moved to her neck, and his thumb caressed her check. "But I didn't," he replied huskily.  
  
"You were lucky," Caitlin sighed as her arms wound around his waist.  
  
"I was lucky," he repeated, lowering his head. "There was this Angel," he kissed her on the forehead, "she saved my life."  
  
Caitlin nodded, her head still held in his hands. "I'm afraid for you. When you leave me, you'll be in danger again."  
  
He pulled her close, crushing her to his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Don't fear for me. It's part of the job, part of who I am."  
  
Caitlin nodded against his chest. When he held her this close, she didn't fear anything. Anything except her strong response to him. Her hands slid up his back as she looked up at him. "Frank," she began, but his mouth took hers, stopping any further conversation.  
  
His hands roamed down her back, stopping at the base of her spine. He pulled her closer, until her hips were molded against his. With one hand firmly cupped around her bottom, the other traveled lazily up her side and around to find a round, firm breast. He delighted at her response. She moaned softly as he teased the small nipple with his thumb.  
  
Caitlin returned Donovan's kisses with abandon. "This is heaven," she thought as she licked and sucked his bottom lip. Her hands were exploring the taut muscles of his arms, his back and traveled down to feel the firmness of his buttocks. She remembered how they looked, when he stood naked in the master bath. She moaned with delight and her head was spinning, the touch of his hand on her breast was awakening desires she never knew she possessed.  
  
Donovan trailed kisses down her cheek, her neck, until he found the soft hollow of her throat. His tongue weaved erotic patterns on her throat while he pulled the tank top loose from her shorts. He eased the shirt upward; freeing the breast he deliciously tormented just a moment before.  
  
Caitlin gasped with pleasure when Frank's lips closed around the hardened nub of her breast and she felt herself arch her back to give him better access. As his tongue flicked the sensitive point, desire and hunger for this man consumed her in a molten wave that washed over her and settled low within her.  
  
Donovan gathered her back into his arms, crushing her lips with his. He moved her to the doorway, his lips never leaving hers. He couldn't get enough of the taste of her as he continued the kiss while trying to climb the stairs.  
  
Lowering her to the mattress of the canopied bed, Donovan leaned down and tenderly removed her top. A loud breath escaped his lips as he took in the beauty of her ample, bare breasts. He reached for the waistband of her shorts, and when he looked to her for approval, he read in her eyes a mixture of desire and fear. He stayed his hand; as much as he needed her, he never wanted her to fear him.  
  
When he moved away from the bed, Caitlin was both hurt and relieved. After a moment of staring at his back, she put her top back on. "Frank?" she asked. It was all she could say.  
  
He could barely think, the ache in his groin was fierce, but he turned to Caitlin and kneeled before her. "It's not right, is it, Caitlin? You're still frightened of me."  
  
She nodded. "Not for the reasons you think."  
  
"No? I can't imagine it could be anything other than what I think." He touched her cheek softly. "I know you don't know me very well, but I promise I would never do anything to hurt you." He was glad to see the fear had left her eyes, although it had been replaced with confusion.  
  
"That, I know," she sighed. He would never understand why she was still a virgin. That she wished to remain one until she found that one person she could not live without. And, although she was beginning to think he might be that man, she wasn't sure.  
  
"You know, and yet you are still afraid," he observed. He lowered his head into her lap and released a long breath when she wound her fingers into his hair.  
  
"Trust me when I tell you that I want you," she attempted to explain. "I may even need you, but I just have to be sure it's the one thing I can't live without." Lame, she knew, but how do you explain a 26-year-old virgin? He would laugh her right out of her own house.  
  
Donovan lifted his head to look at her. She looked every bit the beauty with her flushed skin and tousled hair. He should be angry at the way her body teased his into thinking he would find fulfillment within her. But, he wasn't. He hurt, by God, he really did, but more than that, he was amazed at the fact that he wanted to comfort her. He knew then, he had fallen in love with her and he cursed that fact. His life was not a life meant for love.  
  
Caitlin was amazed at his restraint. He stood, holding a hand out to her and she took it without hesitating. He kissed her tenderly, whispered a goodnight, and then quietly left her alone in her room.  
  
To be continued...


	8. A Shot in the Dark - 8

Chapter 8  
  
The sun shone brightly through the shear curtains that covered the French door of her balcony, drawing Caitlin from the haze of sleep. She stretched wearily. It had been a night of tossing and turning, punching pillows and fighting the urge to run to the guestroom and throw herself at Frank before she finally fell into a fitful sleep.  
  
Sighing, she forced herself out of bed and into the shower. She was looking forward to the fireworks and other entertainment planned for the evening. Tonight was a big deal in Calais. Although July 4th had passed over two weeks ago, the celebration had to be postponed because the weather turned ugly. So, tonight the town celebrated the country's independence. There would be a band, dancing, rides and, of course, the fireworks.  
  
She smiled brightly as she stepped out of the shower. Calais, although a small town, always had a remarkable fireworks display, and Caitlin loved them. She was always amazed how lost she would get in the colors. Music always accompanied the rockets as they exploded, adding to the excitement. No, nothing could ruin this glorious day for her.  
  
She toweled off then wrapped herself in a soft robe. After combing the tangles from her hair, she picked up the blow dryer and dried her hair. She brushed it to a shine, letting it hang straight down her back. Taking a step into the closet, she took a mid-length emerald sundress from its hanger and laid it on the bed.  
  
Caitlin dug into the top dresser drawer and found the dark emerald panties and bra she purchased last week. She almost laughed aloud, at the time wondering why she had bought them, knowing she would be the only one who ever saw them.  
  
She gazed into the mirror at her reflection. The dress had the effect she was looking for, drawing attention to her deep green eyes. They became almost the color of her dress. She looked for and found a pair of white sandals and slipped them easily onto her feet.  
  
She frowned as she headed for the door and her hand rested on the doorknob. Frank. She wondered if he would feel up to going out for the day and evening, as it were. It didn't make any difference; she decided as she lifted her chin, nothing was going to spoil this day for her.  
  
Caitlin stopped at the guestroom. The door was open, but Frank wasn't there. She went downstairs to find him. He wasn't in the kitchen, den or the library. She had been remiss in her hostess duties and had never given him a tour of the house, so perhaps he was exploring it now. She looked in the music room, the dining room, the game room, and finally found him in a large room her father had made into a home gym.  
  
The room was paneled with mirrors on all sides. It contained a variety of machines to workout, but Caitlin rarely used them. She stuck mostly to the treadmill and stationary bikes.  
  
Frank was at the weight machine, working his upper body. She was thankful he had the machine on a light setting lest he tear open his shoulder wound. His skin glistened with the sweat of the workout, and Caitlin stifled the urge to go to him and run her fingers over his damp skin.  
  
Donovan noticed movement in the mirrored walls and looked up to see Caitlin standing in the doorway. He took a sharp breath and exhaled slowly. "You look fantastic," he grinned boyishly. He gazed at her openly, noting the way her dress clung to every curve and how the hem brushed her thigh just a few inches above her knee.  
  
"Thank you, and you...you look sweaty." She laughed. "In light of what happened last night, I realized I never asked if you felt up to an outing today? We're celebrating Independence Day a bit belatedly." She swallowed hard while he thought about her invitation.  
  
He wondered if he should chance going out in public. If someone from Bangor, who wanted him dead, spotted him, he would be putting Caitlin in serious danger. He watched Caitlin fidget, and knew she wanted him to go with her. He would chance it if it would put a smile on her face.  
  
"I'd love to," he said, finally giving her an answer. And smile, she did. The brightest, most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. It lit her whole face, and her emerald eyes sparkled with delight. He couldn't stop himself from smiling back.  
  
"Great! Why don't you get cleaned up? We'll change your bandages and you can change you clothes." With that, she whirled around happily and left to gather the supplies to check his wounds and change his bandages.  
  
Donovan showered in the hall bathroom. Caitlin had provided him with clean towels after she checked his wounds and decided they were healing and he wouldn't do any harm in the shower.  
  
Stepping out of the shower, he dried himself then wrapped the towel around his waist. He opened the bathroom door and watched as Caitlin exited her room and made her way down the hall. He could see her eyelids become heavy with desire, her gaze raking over his near nude body. He summoned his strength to keep his body from reacting to her desire. There was nothing more he wanted than to gather her in his arms, but he didn't want to chance a repeat of last night. Today they would just enjoy each other's company.  
  
Caitlin bit her bottom lip as she neared him. His skin was flushed from the heat of the shower, and the white towel wrapped around him contrasted the color nicely. She marveled at how she did not tire of looking at him. She loved his long, muscular legs and the way his broad shoulder tapered to his hips. He was magnificent, to say the least.  
  
Caitlin smiled warmly, not ready to act on the desire that was building within her. Instead, she rechecked the wounds and applied his bandages. "All set," she told him, "you finish getting ready while I get a few things together to take with us."  
  
Stacking two blankets and a couple of pillows in the foyer, Caitlin turned when she heard footsteps behind her. Frank strode towards her. He had donned a black Murano printed silk sport shirt and a pair of black Murano dress slacks. He was breathtaking. "Now it's my turn...you look fantastic!" she said with open appreciation.  
  
He grinned. "Thank you, but I owe it all to you. After all, they were a gift from you."  
  
Caitlin grabbed the keys and threw them to him and watched as he caught them in his left hand. She picked up the pile of blankets and pillows and waited for Frank to open the door.  
  
He chuckled to himself; the bundle in her arms was piled too high for her to see. He took the pillows from her and opened the door. Apparently Caitlin had moved the car out of the garage while he showered. He strode quickly to the rear and opened the trunk. He placed the pillows and blankets inside the trunk and then closed the lid.  
  
He walked Caitlin to the passenger door, opened it and offered her his hand. She took it, giving him a gentle squeeze as she slid onto the leather seat. He closed the door firmly, then walked around the front of the vehicle, admiring her choice in vehicles.  
  
"Nice car," he said, when he entered the driver's side.  
  
"Mmmm," she nodded. The sleek silver 2002 Mercedes SL500 2dr Roadster was an indulgence, she knew, but she loved the car. "Do you want to put the top down?"  
  
He shook his head. "Maybe later." He started the engine and it purred to life. He eased the car down the driveway and headed toward Calais.  
  
"We can get breakfast when we reach town," she told him a few minutes later when her stomach rumbled loudly.  
  
Donovan smiled. "I thought you didn't eat breakfast."  
  
"Tell me about it, but this morning, I'm ravenous," Caitlin said with a grin.  
  
The drive was short, maybe ten minutes long. Caitlin pointed to a diner and told Frank to pull over. It was a small "mom and pop" kind of place, with a comfortable down-home atmosphere. Caitlin waved to the woman behind the counter and led Frank to a booth in the corner.  
  
"Hi there, Caitlin!" Mrs. Redman smiled warmly at the pair. "Who's your friend, darlin'?"  
  
Caitlin smiled, "Mrs. Redman, it's so good to see you. May I introduce Mr. Frank Donovan."  
  
The rather large, rounded woman extended her hand and Donovan shook it cheerfully. "So, how do you know our little Caitlin, Mr. Donovan?" she asked curiously.  
  
Caitlin answered. "Oh, Mrs. Redman, Frank is an old friend of Father's. He had business in Ogunquit, and decided to pay a visit." She was amazed how easily the lie slid from her tongue.  
  
Frank arched a brow, but he was thankful for her excuse. He gave her an approving glance, knowing she deliberately did not mention Bangor.  
  
"Well, what can I get you two kids?" Mrs. Redman asked, as she lifted a pad and pencil to take their order.  
  
"Your Western omelet platter, please," Caitlin was quick to answer.  
  
"Sounds good to me. Make that two," Donovan added.  
  
To be continued...


	9. A Shot in the Dark - 9

Chapter 9  
  
Caitlin glanced out the window and groaned when she saw the red Jaguar pull in and park next to her car.  
  
"What's wrong, Caitlin?" Donovan asked, reaching for her hand. He followed the direction of her gaze and watched as a neatly tailored, blonde, tall and rather bulky man make his way toward the diner.  
  
Caitlin turned her gaze to Frank and gave his hand a squeeze. "It's Randy," she told him. "He'll make a scene, I know he will."  
  
"Don't worry, we'll handle it," he assured her.  
  
Randy entered the diner, spotted Caitlin and made a beeline towards her. "Caity, I saw your car and...who's this?" His eyes narrowed into small slits as he stared at Donovan. How dare she date someone else! She was his and she damn well knew it.  
  
"He's a friend, Randy. Don't be so rude," she scolded him openly.  
  
Randy glared at her then turned his gazed on the locked hands. "You look a little cozy for friends."  
  
Donovan didn't remove the hand that held Caitlin's, but he extended his right in greetings to Randy. "The name's Donovan, nice to meet you." He wasn't surprised when Randy ignored his hand.  
  
"Look, Caity, we need to talk," he began, but was cut off by Caitlin raising a hand.  
  
"All has been said between us, Randy. I wish you would leave me alone." She shook her head, he would never give up and she knew it. She felt Frank's grip on her increase and when she looked into his eyes, she read his encouragement and it made her feel as though there was nothing she couldn't do.  
  
"You belong to me and you know it," Randy spat. "We were meant to be together, and it was what your father wanted."  
  
"Don't presume to tell me what my father wanted. You may have been a partner of his, but that was all." Her face flushed in anger. "My father didn't know you the way I do. You're a cruel man, Randy, and you're fake." Frank gave her the courage to say the things she could never have said before. "I have tolerated you long enough, and if you bother me again, I'll go to the Sheriff."  
  
Randy became incensed. He grabbed Caitlin's arm and began to drag her from the booth.  
  
Donovan released Caitlin's hand and grabbed Randy by the front of his shirt. He stood now, facing the blonde intruder. "Ms. Whitfield has been more than kind, and I suggest you leave. Now."  
  
Caitlin watched Randy's eyes grow wide with panic and anger. She knew he was contemplating his chances with this dark stranger, but thought better of it. Frank stood a foot taller, and was undeniably in much better physical condition than Randy. Of course, it was a good thing Randy didn't know of Frank's injuries or he would have tried to take advantage.  
  
Randy released his grip on Caitlin. "Okay, I'll go." When Donovan released him he walked to the door and then turned, "You'll regret this, Caity. You'll pay."  
  
"What an unpleasant little man," Mrs. Redman commented as she placed two platters on their table. "Now, don't you go letting him ruin your appetite."  
  
Donovan smiled at the woman. "No chance of that, ma'am. This looks too good to let go to waste." He was warmed thoroughly when Caitlin bestowed a breathtaking smile upon him.  
  
Caitlin watched Frank dig into his breakfast, marveling at how a man can eat after a confrontation. Her stomach was doing all kinds of acrobatics and she wasn't sure she could choke anything down.  
  
"Eat," he commanded, interrupting her thoughts.  
  
She picked up her fork, scooped up some eggs and put them in her mouth. It was only then she remembered she really was hungry and the eggs tasted wonderful. She watched Frank smile, satisfied that she wouldn't go hungry.  
  
Mrs. Redman came to the table to fill their coffee cups. "Do you want anything else?" When she received a negative response, she asked Caitlin, "Should I put this on your tab, dear?"  
  
"Yes, thank you." Caitlin smiled. Mrs. Redman was one of her favorite people in Calais. They spent many an hour together at the diner talking over a good cup of coffee.  
  
Donovan placed a tip on the table and they left the diner. Once in the Mercedes, Caitlin had given him directions to the library. They would leave the car there, she had explained. He followed her directions easily and they were parking the car within minutes.  
  
"Hello, Miss Caitlin," a voice said as she stepped from the car.  
  
Caitlin looked up the see an elderly black gentleman, Willie Jenkins, the library and park custodian. He would help keep things running in an orderly fashion during the chaos of the celebration.  
  
"Mr. Jenkins! What a pleasure to see you. How are you, sir?" She smiled brightly.  
  
"Just fine, dear. It's nice to see you with your gentleman friend, Miss Caitlin. You keep to yourself too much," he observed candidly.  
  
She blushed. "Let me introduce you. Mr. Jenkins, this is Frank Donovan, a friend and colleague of my father."  
  
Donovan extended his hand and Mr. Jenkins shook it firmly. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Donovan. You take care of our Caitlin, you hear?" He said, with a twinkle in his eye.  
  
"I'll certainly do my best, Mr. Jenkins." Donovan wasn't surprised these people held Caitlin in such high regard. In the short time he knew her, her strong character and determined spirit had made him open his heart to her and she would forever be a part of him.  
  
While they exchanged pleasantries, Caitlin opened the trunk and pulled out the blankets and pillows. Mr. Jenkins took them from her. "I reserved your place, Miss Caitlin, and I'll see that these are taken care of."  
  
She kissed his cheek. "Thank you, you are always so kind to me." And with a nod, Mr. Jenkins left them; blankets and pillows piled high in his arms.  
  
With plenty of time before the fireworks, they wandered the streets of Calais. They passed an outdoor complex with tennis courts, baseball fields, etc. They stopped to watch a group of children playing baseball.  
  
Donovan started to climb the bleachers and turned to offer Caitlin a hand. She took it without hesitation and they proceeded to the top bleacher. When they were seated, he didn't release her hand and she made no attempt to remove it.  
  
It was an extraordinary time for him; he couldn't remember the last time he felt so at ease. If someone wasn't hunting him, he was hunting them. Always was someone doomed to be hurt in his life, and he didn't want that for Caitlin. She was too good for him, and he knew he had to leave her soon. If he didn't, he wouldn't be able to leave her at all.  
  
Caitlin felt his gaze on her, almost like a soft touch and she turned to smile at him. She wondered what he was thinking about, his eyes had become guarded again. When he returned her smile, she was thrilled to see it reached his eyes, the effect dazzling.  
  
Caitlin's thoughts were interrupted as someone sat down on the other side of Frank. "Hello, Misty," she greeted her friend warmly. Misty often brought her two children, Devon and Daisy, to the library. Devon was eight years old; Daisy was barely a year old.  
  
"Hi, Cait! Good to see you here. Look, Devon's up to bat," the proud mother turned her attention to her son.  
  
Daisy, who was being held on her mother's lap, had other ideas. She squirmed out of her mother's embrace and crawled across Donovan, her red curls bouncing with each movement, to reach for Caitlin. Caitlin unwound her fingers from Donovan's and took her lovingly into her arms. "Hello, precious. Have you missed me?" She asked the little girl.  
  
Daisy nodded and placed her small hand on Caitlin's cheek. Caitlin kissed the little girl's cheeks and murmured softly to her. Daisy sighed and closed her eyes to Caitlin's soft voice and gentle rocking and she drifted off to sleep.  
  
Caitlin looked up to see Frank watching her, and she caught a glimpse of what could have been admiration before he dropped his usual veil over his dark eyes. When he smiled, she felt her insides melt.  
  
"I'm Misty." A voice interrupted.  
  
Donovan turned to the woman next to him. "I'm Frank," he replied sociably.  
  
"Oh, Cait, I'm sorry about Daisy," Misty said, noticing her daughter asleep in her friend's lap. "Here, pass her to me."  
  
Caitlin shook her head. "She's fine, really. You know I adore her."  
  
Misty nodded. "Okay, if you're sure."  
  
"I'm sure," Caitlin replied, but she was missing Frank's touch and her body responded by scooting closer to him.  
  
Upon feeling her bump against his thigh, Donovan slid an arm around Caitlin's waist and pulled her close. He could feel the heat of her skin through their clothes. He welcomed the warmth. When she looked up at him, he leaned toward her and pressed his lips against hers.  
  
Her lips parted slightly under his and she felt his tongue skim over her lips before entering to explore the depths and taste of her mouth. Caitlin felt her toes curl, and she placed her free hand on his cheek, reveling in the feel of him. She was lost in the kiss, the world was forgotten and all she knew was the feel of his lips, his tongue teasing hers and the tremendous need to feel more of him.  
  
Donovan felt an elbow in his side, jerking him from the kiss and then heard Misty's teasing whisper, "Hey, you two! Get a room, why don'tcha!" His gaze never left Caitlin's, and in her eyes he saw love, undaunted and absolute and it stole his breath away.  
  
To be conintued...


	10. A Shot in the Dark - 10

Chapter 10

When they came to the docks, Donovan listened as Caitlin pointed out the ships that would take passengers on seal and whale watching excursions. They had spent the remainder of the morning and most of the afternoon exploring the town, with Caitlin explaining its history. She told him how Samuel de Champlain and Sieur De Monts tried to start a settlement here in 1604, but it failed; about the Calais fire in 1870 that destroyed most of the town.

He smiled inwardly at himself; he had actually forgotten most of what she had told him. Not because he wasn't listening to her, but because her voice captivated him and he found himself thinking of other things. Things he knew he couldn't have. A life with her; a life that would not cause her pain. He shook his head. He knew he couldn't give her that life, and what he had to offer, well, he knew wasn't good enough for her.

"I'm thirsty," Caitlin said, breaking him free from his thoughts.

"Is that so?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement.

She nodded. "I've been rattling on for hours. Come on, let's check out the carnival booths." She tugged at his hand, pulling him forward.

"Okay, okay!" He laughed.

Caitlin let go of him to run ahead to find something to drink. He found her quickly enough; she was at the first food booth she found. She turned her head to smile up at him when he stood behind her. Donovan surprised himself when he encircled his arms around her waist from behind and pulled her possessively against him.

Caitlin was surprised, too. She looked up at him again, but as usual, could read nothing in his expression when his eyes locked onto hers. He was a good foot taller than her, and at the angle her head was tilted, she could do little more than place a small kiss on his chin while she covered his hands, that were clasped together at her stomach, with her own.

"Here ya go, sweetie," the vendor said as she handed Caitlin a small cup and took her money.

Caitlin turned within the circle of Frank's arms. "Want some?" she asked, taking a sip from the straw.

He looked down at her and wondered how she had managed to stay so sweet and innocent in this day and age. "Before I answer that, you might want to tell me what it is." He flashed her a brilliant smile.

"Vanilla Coke, of course," she told him as if he should have known. She was delighting in the fact that they could tease each other so easily. She wondered how they had gotten so comfortable with each other. Not that she minded; it was a pleasure to see him so carefree.

"Never heard of it," he shook his head. "I think I'll pass."

"Aw, come on. It's good." But still he shook his head. "Really, its just Coca-Cola with vanilla extract." She put the straw to his lips. "Just one sip, then I'll leave you alone," she promised.

She watched as his lips surrounded the straw, and licked hers in turn. Just the sight of him made her tingle, and she hungered for the touch of his mouth on hers. She laughed lightly as she watched a smile tug at Frank's lips when the liquid swirled into his mouth.

"See," she said, nudging him with her hip. "Told you it was good."

"Mmm, but not as good as this," he assured her as he captured her lips with his. Caitlin moaned softly in agreement and her free arm encircled his neck.

"Sheesh, what is it with you two?" Misty joked.

Caitlin whimpered when Frank pulled away, and feigned anger at her friend. "I think you're just bored, Misty, and are looking to stir up trouble."

Misty laughed. "Of course I'm bored. Jason took the kids for some rides and I have no one to talk to."

"Heaven help us," Caitlin said jokingly. "If you think I can talk, wait until you get a load of Misty."

"You know, Cait," Misty said, giving Donovan the once over, "In all the years we've known each other, you've never mentioned this gorgeous creature that can't keep his hands off you. Why is that, I wonder?"

Caitlin shrugged and gave Frank's waist a squeeze when she felt him tense. "Guess I'm selfish and didn't want to share him."

"Not buying it," Misty persisted.

Caitlin wasn't sure if her friend was joking any more. Her hands were on her hips, and a stern look crossed her brow as she pushed auburn tresses out of her eyes.

"Really, Misty, I don't know why you're so worried," Caitlin began, and was relieved when her friend's face softened. "Before my parents died, Frank and I had very little contact. He worked for my father and you know I never had anything to do with Daddy's work. But, when he happened to have some business in Ogunquit, he called and asked if we could get together. It's as simple as that."

Misty nodded and turned to Donovan. "Sorry, it's just that Caitlin doesn't date and here you are. And pretty close, if I might add."

"No problem. It's nice to know Caitlin has friends who care about her as much as you do." He accepted her apology with all sincerity.

"Well, now that I feel better, I'll go find my family so we can get settled for the evening." Misty kissed Caitlin on the cheek, nodded to Donovan and then went in search of her family.

Caitlin held the cup for Frank and he took another sip. When he was done, she finished the drink and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. She sighed loudly while she looked up at the sky.

"Something wrong, Caitlin?" Donovan asked as he took her hand and they began walking through the row of booths that contained games.

"No, just can't wait for the fireworks to start." She laughed when Frank shook his head. "I can't help it!" She playfully slapped him on the arm. "Let's go to my spot, the band should be starting soon."

"Your spot?" Donovan asked, looking around.

Caitlin pointed to a group of trees at the far end of the park. "Mr. Jenkins will have put our things there. He saves it for me, he knows it's my favorite spot."

Just as she said, Mr. Jenkins had already spread one large blanket between the three trees that formed a "V" and the pillows and second blanket rested upon it. Caitlin propped the two pillows against the tree at the point of the "V".

"Frank, come sit here," she motioned to the pillows, "it's been long day and you're still recovering." When he was rested against the pillows, Caitlin sat facing him with her legs tucked to the side.

"There you are, Miss Caitlin!" Mr. Jenkins approached. "Mrs. Redman sent me over with this. She said you asked for a light dinner while the band played, so here you are."

"Thank you," Caitlin took the basket he carried and placed it in front of her. "Please be sure to thank Mrs. Redman for me if you see her."

The custodian waved to the couple on the blanket and went on his way.

"You think of everything, don't you?" Donovan commented with a smile.

"Not everything, but you need to keep your strength up," Caitlin shrugged. "I called Mrs. Redman this morning and asked her to fix us something."

She opened the basket and removed a bottle of Merlot and a corkscrew and handed it to Frank. "Here, make yourself useful," she said playfully, handing him the wine. She removed two cloth napkins and placed one on his lap. Reaching back into the basket, she removed three Tupperware containers that held finger sandwiches, fresh fruit and various cheeses.

Donovan opened the bottle with ease. He filled the two wine glasses that Caitlin placed beside him, corked the bottle and handed it back to Caitlin. He watched as she put it back in the basket then positioned herself closer to him.

"Hungry?" she asked.

He nodded and took a sandwich from the container she held out to him. Chicken salad. He found he couldn't stop watching her. She was munching on one of the small, triangular sandwiches. When she was finished with it, she picked up a glass and sipped her wine. He found her every movement laced with sensuality.

After the sandwiches were gone, Caitlin held a grape to his lips. He opened his mouth and she gently placed it on his tongue, but before she could remove her finger, his lips closed around it, sucking it tenderly. Caitlin drew in a breath and her stomach did a funny little flip-flop.

"I think I enjoy being fed by you," Donovan said with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Oh, I think you might enjoy it a little too much, sir." But still she fed him. Fruit, cheese, she even held his glass to his lips. Caitlin was sure she enjoyed it more than he did, because he continued to lick and suck her fingers each time she placed a tidbit in his mouth.

To be continued...


	11. A Shot in the Dark - 11

Chapter 11

"Still hungry?" she asked, after he ate most of the food. When he shook his head no, she put the containers in the basket, pulled out the wine and filled their glasses.

Dusk had set in and the band started to play. Classical music, so relaxing. Donovan took the glasses from Caitlin and placed them next to him. Holding a hand out to her, he positioned her between his thighs, her back resting against his chest. She fit against him perfectly and the intimate way their bodies touched seemed natural.

Caitlin shivered at being so close to him. Frank mistook it for the chill of the night air and unfolded the other blanket and drew it up around her. She didn't let him know he was the cause of her shivers. Being in such close proximity to the most masculine part of him was probably the biggest cause. She snuggled back against him, taking in his musky scent, and her senses reeled when Frank's arms encircled her, holding her tightly against him.

Donovan handed Caitlin her glass and she smiled her thanks. He noted how she leaned her head on his right shoulder careful to avoid the wound on his left shoulder. He almost laughed when she realized the fireworks were about to start and she let out a squeal of delight.

Caitlin sat up, pulling away from Frank. She sat her glass aside and watched as the colorful rockets began to explode in the dark sky above, keeping time with the music. She felt Frank's hands on her waist, pulling her back to his chest. She lost herself in the sounds and colors dancing in the sky and the feel of Frank's hands gently running up and down her arms.

Donovan found himself helpless to stop his roving hands. After checking the surrounding area, he discovered they were quite secluded in this small clump of trees. But, just to be sure, he pulled the blanket back across Caitlin, covering her completely from chest to toes. He began kissing her soft neck and shoulders, nibbling her ears. She tasted salty-sweet. He ached to feel her, touch her everywhere, and as if his hands had a mind of their own, they were underneath the blanket, cupping her ample breasts, massaging them gently through her clothes.

Caitlin moaned as Frank's hands held her, her nipples growing hard at his touch. He was wicked to be so familiar with her in public, but she didn't care. She was lost in his touch and the erotic feelings that stirred within her. The throbbing ache between her thighs beat to the tempo of desire he controlled with his hands. She turned her head to face him when she felt his hand inch to her thigh, sliding her dress up to her waist.

Donovan watched her through heavy eyelids. When she turned her head to look at him, he could see her need and longing. When she lifted her chin to give him access to her lips, he captured them with hunger, demand. One hand still caressed her breast while the other had inched its way slowly inside her dress, savoring the feel of her silky thigh as he traced delicate patterns with his fingers.

Caitlin's mind reeled. What was he doing to her? She couldn't think straight. She should stop him, she knew, but was unable to force herself to do what was right. She threw her head back, moaning like a woman wild when she felt his hand slip inside her panties. His fingers were where no man's had ever been, and Lord, she wanted more than his hands on her. She wanted to feel him, that part of him that jutted so strongly against her back, deep inside, filling her, fulfilling her.

As if in answer to her awakened desire, her legs parted to give him better access. She was so moist, and he knew it wouldn't take long to take her to the edge. He stroked and rubbed her soft folds, causing her to wriggle within his grasp. He wanted her, wanted her more than anything or anyone he had ever wanted before in his life. He continued to rain kisses on her neck, shoulder, as he kneaded her breast and gently slipped two fingers inside her slick opening.

"Oh...my...." she turned her head, crushing her face into his neck. Her body lifted within the circle of his arms as liquid fire shot through her body, quaking, quivering. She sobbed against him as her climax overtook her, delicious waves erupting through her body.

When she was finally able to breath somewhat normally, she gazed up at him, her eyes still dazed by what she had just experienced. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out.

He whispered huskily, "Are you okay?"

She shook her head. "I know I should be embarrassed..." her voice trailed off.

"You never have to be embarrassed with me," he assured her, nibbling an ear.

She smiled wickedly, "I said I know I _should_ be embarrassed, but I'm not. It felt wonderful." She wondered if all aspects of lovemaking would feel this good. She had a strong feeling it would, with this man. After all, she knew he was well equipped to please a woman. She didn't have to see how large he was; she could feel it.

He murmured into her ear, "_You_ felt wonderful." He grinned, " I hope you enjoyed the fireworks."

"Oh, I did! I did!" She laughed, both knowing they weren't talking about the fireworks that danced in the sky.

To be continued....


	12. A Shot in the Dark - 12

Author's note:  same disclaimers as previous chapters. Chapter 12 

The drive back to Caitlin's house was short, and the sexual tension was so thick inside the Roadster, you could almost taste it.  Donovan glanced at Caitlin; she rested comfortably in the passenger seat, her eyes closed.  He wished she would give him some kind of sign as to her feelings.  She had become withdrawn when they left the park and he wondered if the sexual urgency he had felt in her response earlier had been replaced with misgivings about what she had allowed to happen.

As if reading his thoughts, Donovan felt her hand on his thigh.  His response to her touch was strong and swift, and he felt as though he had been struck by lightening.  Looking over at her, he saw her eyes remained closed, and there was the slightest hint of a smile on her lips.  He covered her hand with his and dropped his foot on the gas pedal; he couldn't get her home soon enough to suit his need.

Caitlin opened her eyes to look at him.  He was drawing little circles on the back of her hand with his thumb and she felt herself go weak at his touch.  She wondered when she had lost control over her body.  Never, in her wildest dreams, would she ever imagine that a man would have this much power over her emotions.  

Donovan stopped the car in the driveway, jumped out and strode quickly to open Caitlin's door.  He offered her his hand and she accepted it with a smile.  He pulled her to him, crushing her in his embrace.  With eyes that blazed with passion, he questioned her, begging for a response.  

Caitlin answered his unspoken question; twining her arms around his neck and pulling him towards her while she stood on her tiptoes to bestow upon him a kiss so passionate he thought he might have been dreaming.  If it was a dream, he didn't want to ever wake up.  

His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her roughly against him and Caitlin could feel his hardness against her stomach.  A deep, low growl emitted from his throat as she explored his chest and back with her hands, mindful of his wounded shoulder.  

Donovan moved them toward the house, fumbling with the locks on the door, not wanting to remove himself from Caitlin's embrace for a fraction of a second.  In the back of his mind he still imagined Caitlin would change her mind.  

Caitlin laughed as she covered his hand with hers and took the keys from him.  She slid it into the lock easily and the door opened.  "Men are so easily distracted," she joked as she removed herself from Frank's embrace and entered the house.

"_You_ are not a distraction a man can prepare himself for."  That was the whole of it, now, wasn't it?  He hadn't been prepared for her, and she so selflessly wound herself around his heart that he would never be free.  

"How you do flatter me, sir," she said in her best Scarlet O'Hara voice.  

She wondered why he lingered downstairs, while she was halfway upstairs.  He wanted her, she knew he did, and Heaven help her, she wanted him.  Every muscle in her body ached and throbbed with desire for him, calling out for release.  

She turned to face him, one hand resting on the rail.  "Frank?  Is something wrong?"

He started to climb, his eyes locked with hers as she continued moving backwards up the stairs.  "I need you to tell me something."   He was on the step below her now.  "You must be honest to yourself, as well as me."

"You're being so serious." She was at the top now, walking backwards down the hall that led to her room.  "What is it you need to know?"

They were at her door now.  They stood facing each other, so close Donovan could feel her breath on his face.  "Tell me what you want, _really_ want, before we start something I'm not sure I can stop."

Caitlin felt the bed behind her.  She understood why he was hesitating.  He was giving her a chance to send him away.  Her hands moved to the straps of her dress, pushing them off her shoulders and it fell silently to the floor lying in a heap at her feet.  She was amazed at her own actions, quite unaware when her shyness left her and was replaced by brazenness.

He watched her through heavy eyelids as she stepped out of her dress and kicked it to the side.  He thought she was going to move toward him, but instead, she walked across the room to the doors that led to the balcony and swung them open, letting the ocean breeze enter the room.  She was bathed in moonlight, accentuating her every curve, breathing new life to his desire.

Caitlin retraced her steps and closed the distance between them.  "Now, where were we?"  She smiled teasingly.  "Oh, yes, you wanted an answer."  She put a finger to her chin and tapped it absentmindedly pretending to ponder the affairs of state.  "Hmmm...let's see if this will satisfy your need for knowledge."  Her hand reached out to him.

Donovan's eyes widened as Caitlin boldly reached forward and unzipped his pants.  "I'm still not satisfied."  His voice was low and husky.  His eyes devoured her.  

"Oh, well, how about this?" She asked as she unbuttoned the pants and slid them down his hips.  

"A little better," he acknowledged as he stepped out of his shoes, then removed the slacks the rest of the way and kicked them to the side much as Caitlin had done with her dress.

"Hmmm," she murmured, tapping her lips as if deep in thought.  "Oh!  Here, try this."  She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra.  She watched Frank's eyes grow darker with arousal.  Once freed from her breasts, she let the silky garment slide down her arms and grasped it in her hand.

"Or this." She moved closer to him, her eyes locked to his.  She lifted her hands to his neck without touching him, although by the intake of his breath, one might have thought she did and draped the bra around his neck.  

He smiled lazily, pulling it from his neck and tossing it into the pile of clothes they were creating.  

"Now, about that shirt..." Her hands moved deftly over the buttons and within moments it joined the other clothes in the pile.  She smiled seductively.  "Has your question been answered?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady her as she removed her sandals.

"Not entirely," he whispered, he eyed her hungrily.

"Oh, these?"  She put her thumb in the waistband of her panties and tugged at them.

"Caitlin!" He growled and gathered her to him.  "Stop teasing," he demanded as his mouth ground against hers.

When he broke the kiss, she was breathless, shaken.  "Okay, no more...no more teasing."  She laid her head against his chest, her hands roaming his back.  "I want you."  She barely got the words out before his lips covered hers again.

Donovan's senses reeled.  Her skin felt like silk under his rough hands as they slid leisurely down her sides.  His fingers slid beneath the thin fabric of her panties and he pushed them from her hips until they fell at her feet.  They, too, joined the pile on the floor.  

He laid her gently on the bed, his eyes roamed freely over her nude body.  She was glorious.  He couldn't remember the last time he needed a woman so badly.  He leaned over her and kissed her hard, demanding.  He cupped hers breast, his hands kneading, caressing, arousing.  Her breasts swelled in his hands and he bent to flick his tongue over the hardened nipples, first one, then the other.

Caitlin moaned as he suckled her breast, the sweet, heated wave of desire enveloping her, coursing through her.  A soft cry left her lips when he pulled away to remove what little remained of his own clothing.  

Her eyes widened and she licked her lips nervously when she saw him now, fully aroused, no clothing to hinder her view.  He was so big!  She wondered if she would be able to accommodate him.  She pushed the thought from her mind and held her arms out to him as he eased himself atop her.  

He positioned himself above her, careful not to put his full weight on her; a groan escaped him when his hardness pressed against the soft skin of her thigh.  Her hands roamed freely over his back, causing him to shudder.  He captured her mouth, savoring the taste of her, the feel of her lips, the touch of her tongue against his.

Her desire was consuming her, and she was sure she would expire from the heat.  A gasp of delight escaped her when he captured a nipple between his lips.  Her voice was heavy with rapture as she called out his name.  

Donovan raised himself to move slowly downward, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses down the valley of her breast, over her stomach, and the soft patch of hair that sheltered her moist core.  He placed a knee between her thighs, beckoning her to welcome him.  As her legs moved apart, he placed himself between her thighs, sliding his hands under her buttocks to make her more accessible to his tender ministrations.

Caitlin stiffened when she realized what he was doing.  She had heard women talk of it, but no man had ever been that familiar with her body.  

Donovan paused when he felt her tense.  He reached for her and gently cupped her face.  "Relax.  Enjoy."  

When he leaned over her, kissing her with a persuasive passion, she relaxed instantly to the heat that exuded from him.  

Her head flew back instantly, when she felt his tongue caress the delicate folds of her womanhood.  He continued, licking, sucking.  Her head moved from side to side, moaning as ecstasy overtook her.  And when she felt his tongue slide in and out of her opening, she thought she would surely die.  The pain was exquisite as spasms rolled through her and she again called out his name.  This time, her voice was not low and husky.  

Loud and urgent, she called to him, breaking him from the taste of her climax.  He pulled himself back to her, their lips almost touching.  Her breathing was heavy, erratic.  Her breath was hot against his face.  He could see there would be no turning back for her; she was his.  

"Please, Frank," she begged.  "Make love to me, please.  I need you so."  

He wiped a tear that slid from the corner of her eye and crushed his lips to hers.  She moaned heavily when he positioned himself between her thighs, his hardness pressed against her swollen, throbbing folds.

He entered her slowly, his desire tenfold knowing she wanted him so desperately.  This was more than lust, he told himself as he inched further into her. His heart soared with the love he felt for her, and the physical act of love was more pleasurable because of that love.  He moaned her name against her lips; one hand cupped a breast possessively as her soft, velvety tunnel enveloped him.

Caitlin opened her eyes when Frank suddenly stopped his movements within her.  His eyes were wide and she wondered what caused his abrupt halt to their lovemaking.

"Hell, Caitlin," he whispered huskily.  "You're a virgin."  His heart had practically stopped beating when he encountered her maidenhead, the thin barrier of her virginity.

Caitlin nodded mutely.  What was there to say?  She was, but she would not be one much longer.  She loved him, she knew now, had loved him from the first moment his eyes met hers on the stoop the night she found him injured.  There was no other that she would want to give this gift that she had been saving.  She prayed he wouldn't change his mind.

"We can still stop.  It's not too late," he assured her.  He wasn't convinced she knew what she was getting into or giving up, for that matter.

"No, my love, please don't stop."  Her eyes held her love for him in liquid pools, the depths of which he might never know.  

He felt an anguished cry leave his throat as she lifted her head and tantalized him when she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth.  "It will hurt briefly," he tried to explain, "but pain will turn to pleasure."  

He thrust into her, tearing the thin membrane and his heart wept at the soft outcry that escaped Caitlin's beautiful lips.  As he watched her face, she smiled.  A smile so reassuring he thought his heart would burst.  

Caitlin moaned silkily, sliding her hands down his back and cupped his buttocks.  "All of you," she murmured.  She was shocked by the sound of her own voice; at how deep it had become.  "I want to feel all of you inside me."  And to answer the questioning look in his eye, she lifted her hips and pushed down on his bottom, driving him deep within her.

She amazed him, she really did.  And he was lost, moving within her in heated rhythmic strokes.  They were as one, moving together, sending each other to heaven; a timeless heaven within each other's arms, bodies.  

He slowed his movement within her and touched his forehead to hers.  Caitlin could see every line of his handsome, chiseled features bathed in moonlight.  She watched as passion distorted them with every thrust.  It drew an excitement from deep within her, and she knew she was nearing the edge of the bliss he so skillfully evoked within her.  

Donovan could hold back no longer.  He pulled back and thrust hard, deep within in her, triggering the ultimate euphoria they both needed, wanted.  He felt her body quake in climax and her soft ardent moans swept over him as he thrust one last time, shuddering, calling out her name as he met his release deep within her.

Donovan rolled onto his back, bringing Caitlin with him.  She laid her head comfortably on his chest and released a contented sigh.  His chin rested against her head and he stroked her silky hair.  

She lifted her head to smile at him and placed a small kiss on his chin.  "I've never experienced anything so beautiful."  She snuggled back into his embrace.  Her hand touched the wound on his shoulder, now covered in a small bandage.  "You didn't reopen your wounds, did you?" 

He was touched by her concern.   "No, angel, I didn't."  He kissed the top of her head.  "I just hope you don't regret what we've done."

"I won't," she assured him.  

"I hope you will always feel that way," he said sleepily.  Caitlin lifted herself off him and moved to his side to snuggle into the crook of his arm.  He pulled her close and covered them with a blanket.  "The sound of the ocean is lulling me to sleep," he apologized.

"Mmmm...it sounds wonderful, doesn't it?" She sighed when she felt his arms tighten about her.  "Goodnight, Frank," she whispered, as she drifted to sleep.  Somewhere in the distance, a faint whisper of love touched her heart. 

"I love you, Caitlin," he whispered to the beautiful vision sleeping within his arms.

To be continued...


	13. A Shot in the Dark - 13

Author's note:  same disclaimers as previous chapters.

Chapter 13

He lost track of the miles he traveled since leaving Calais until he came across the exit sign.  BANGOR – NEXT EXIT.   He eased the Jaguar into the right lane to catch the exit ramp.  Finally, he would get some answers.  Randy took the exit into Bangor and headed for the only person he knew who could give him the information he desired.

After that jerk Donovan showed him up in front of Caitlin, he had spent the rest of the day following them.  He didn't believe the stories going around town that Frank Donovan was a friend and former business associate of Shane Whitfield.  He, himself, had known Shane for years, and knew practically everyone Shane had done business with.  No, Caitlin had lied...but why?  

He would find out.  He was desperate to find out, especially after his humiliation.  No, not the scene at the diner, but the way they were together.  All day they couldn't keep their hands off each other.  Even the thought of it made his stomach turn.  Then came the ultimate humiliation, under the moonlight when they thought no one could see.  

But he did, he saw everything.  Under the moonlight and fireworks Caitlin let that man touch her.  It infuriated him, but more than that he was disgusted with himself.  His voyeurism led him to meet his release with his own hand.  Humiliations galore he had suffered that day.  He would get even, he promised himself.

It was nearly 7 a.m.  Randy knew where Gregg Jeffries would be.  Gregg would be able to find out about that Donovan character that had Caitlin under his spell.  He just needed to be patient for a little while longer.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Donovan stretched muscles that still craved sleep.  He didn't have much luck in the sleep department with Caitlin's luscious body next to his during the night.  Every time she moved, wiggled or nudged he became aroused, even while he slept.  It took his iron will not to disturb her as she rested contentedly in his arms.  Instead, he took satisfaction in watching her sleep.

He reached for her, intent on fulfilling the need that had plagued him during the night, but his arms were empty and all that lay beside him were pillows.  He saw her then, her back to him, leaning against the doorjamb to the balcony, watching the sunrise.   

Caitlin watched the sun as it called forth the new day.  It brought with it heartache, a sorrow that almost overwhelmed her for she knew this would be the last day she would spend with Frank.  Neither of them had spoken of it, but she knew he was well enough to get on with his life.  

She pulled the shirt he wore yesterday tightly around her and drew in the deep scent of maleness that clung to the fabric.  He wasn't even gone yet, and she missed him with every fiber of her being.  She thought she had known loss when her parents had died, but this kind of loss was new, different.  It shattered her heart into a million pieces.

How she would get over this, she had no idea, but in the meantime, she would not show Frank her feelings of despair.  She had no claim on him, no right to demand anything of him, and she would not make him feel obligated to her.  No, she loved him, and she would let him go.

Caitlin heard him moving about behind her, but stayed where she was, watching the sunlight dance over the ocean.  She felt his arms around her waist as he pulled her back against him.  She turned in his embrace, the shirt falling open as she wound her arms about his neck, revealing her nakedness underneath.

"You look good in my shirt," he said as his eyes raked over her bosom.  He gently unwound her arms from his neck.  His fingers moved to her cheeks, caressing them gently, then slid down her neck under the collar of the shirt.  He slid the shirt sensually from her shoulders until it dropped to the floor.  "Of course, you look better out of it," he whispered as he nuzzled the soft skin of her neck.  

She stood before him now, completely nude, and as the morning sun caressed her silky skin, her natural beauty stunned Donovan.  Her blonde hair was tousled from sleep and she wore not one stitch of makeup, and still she was the most exquisite woman he had ever laid eyes on.

Caitlin's eyes wandered over his body, which she discovered was as bare as hers.  She noticed he had removed his bandages, and she placed a gentle kiss near the wound on his shoulder.  It was healing nicely, but he would carry a nasty scar.  She laid her cheek against his sinewy chest, and could hear the heavy beating of his heart.  

His hands were tender, loving as they roamed her body, gently calling attention to the need building within her.  Her earlier feelings took second place to the pleasure of his touch as he molded her into his embrace.  She lifted her head to see his face; she studied every curve, every line, burning it into her memory to live there for eternity.

Donovan lifted her with ease, carried her to the bed and sat on the edge, holding her across his lap.  He wondered why she was staring at him so intently.  "Caitlin," he murmured between kisses, "I can't seem to get enough of you."  

"I know the feeling," she confessed as she touched her forehead to his.  "You invade my every thought, awake or asleep," she further confessed as she trailed small kisses down his nose, across his cheek to his ear.  She traced his ear with her tongue, gently drawing the lobe between her lips and he moaned when she lightly began to nibble the delicate flesh.  

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"  A low growl escaped his throat as he cupped one of her breasts, gently massaging the hardened nipple.

It was a rhetorical question, one that didn't need an answer.  Of course she knew what she was doing to him and she delighted in his response, but she wanted to hear him say what he was feeling.  "No, what is it that I do?"  Her voice dripped innocence.  

He nipped at her bottom lip, "I think you know."  When she shook her head, he said thickly, "I think you can feel what you do to me."  

She lightly trailed her fingers down his chest and washboard stomach until her fingers met the tangle of curls and his stiff manhood.  "You want me to feel this?"  Again she feigned innocence as she wrapped her hand around his hardness and moved her hand over him.

He threw his head back, moaning, and his features distorted with the blissful pleasure she brought him until he felt he would burst and had to move her hand away.  "You are a naughty woman, my angel," he said, kissing her with a passion born of the ages.  "I wonder what else you have in mind for me?"

Feeling brave, much as she did the previous night, she turned in his embrace, and brazenly wrapped her legs around his waist.  She watched his eyes open in surprise as she used her hand to guide him inside her as she lowered herself on his swollen, throbbing erection.  

It was at that moment that Donovan knew their pleasure was equaled, in step with the other, as he held Caitlin at the waist and laid back on the bed. He could feel the heat within her as she gasped with his movement, causing him to enter her fully.  

She folded her legs, on her knees now, to ride him, to fulfill the need and ease the ache within her.  She moved up and down on him slowly, building the pleasure between them.  

In the throws of passion, her movement increased, her back arched and her head held back, eyes closed.  Donovan reached to cover her breasts with his hands and was ecstatic when Caitlin placed her hands over his.  "That's it, baby," he moaned, urging her on, "love me...take us there together."

"Yes...yes," she panted, "I...ah..." She bit her lip to hold back the scream of delight that was about to overtake her.  She felt Frank's hands move from her breasts to her hips and held her in place while he thrust upward, hard and fast, bringing forth the enthralling groans of release that, upon hearing, brought Caitlin to her own climax.  

He chuckled as she collapsed on top of him, her breasts crushed to his chest.  "Are you okay, Caitlin?"  Her heart was racing wildly and her breath was rapid against his cheek.  

"Aren't you the least bit winded?" She asked in wonder.

He couldn't help himself, she was so serious, but he laughed, full and heartily, until he thought he might cry.  He placed her hand over his heart.  "Feel that?" he asked.  When she nodded, he explained, "Although you did all the work, angel, you still make my heart pound."   

Caitlin smiled.  "That's nice to hear.  Now, be a good boy and kiss me, then let's get cleaned up and go for a walk."

"Sounds nice," he said as he kissed her.  

Caitlin jumped up with renewed energy.  "Good, get moving."  She had every intention of enjoying this day to the fullest.  

                                     ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

FRANK DONOVAN was printed clearly on the card that was tossed on to his desk.  Gregg Jeffries looked up to find the person who put it there.  "Randy.  What's this all about?"  He handed the card back to Randy.

"I need to find out everything you can about this man," he explained.  He watched his friends brown eyes cloud and a frown appeared on his brow.  

Gregg nodded, "Why, who is he?"

"A mysterious stranger who my girl has befriended.  I need to get rid of him," Randy stated bluntly.

Gregg pushed his chair back from his desk.  "Caitlin?  What's his story?"

"Caitlin tells everyone he's a friend of her fathers, had business in Ogunquit and stopped by for a visit."  He started pacing.  "I know that's a lie.  Frank Donovan was not one of Shane Whitfield's associates."

Gregg nodded and stood to his full six feet, offering a hand to Randy.  "I'll see what I can find out.  Do me a favor and keep an eye on them, just in case Caitlin is in any danger."

"Of course.  Call me when you find out something." Randy left, fully intending to do just what Gregg suggested and track Caitlin down.

After Randy was gone, Gregg sat back down at his desk, and ran a hand through his short black hair.  He reached for the phone and dialed the extension to the front desk.  "He's alive.  Get the others and meet me in the garage."

To be continued....


	14. A Shot in the Dark - 14

Author's note:  same disclaimers as previous chapters.

Chapter 14 

Caitlin tossed a couple bottles of water and apples into a tote bag and sat down at the kitchen table to slip on her Nike's and scrunch down her light blue socks.  When finished she stood, smoothing the blue polo-style knit dress made of cotton and spandex and straightened the open collar. 

"Hey!  Hurry up, slowpoke," Caitlin yelled to Frank.

"My, my, your impatience is showing."  He grinned.  He gazed at her appreciatively, taking in her beauty.  "So, where are we headed?  A walk on the beach?"

Caitlin shook her head.  "We will be walking, but not on the beach.  I have someplace special I'd like to show you."  She slung the tote bag onto her shoulder and headed for the front door.  "You coming?"  She held her hand out to Frank.

When they reached the end of the driveway, Caitlin pointed across the small two-lane road.  "Over there."  When his eyes followed the direction she indicated, she explained, "I made a small path in the thicket. Come on!"  After checking the road, she ran across, pulling Frank with her.

He watched as she pulled a thick curtain of vines and branches away to reveal the hidden path.  After they passed through the opening, she pulled the vines back into place.  "Why the secrecy, angel?"  

Her eyebrow quirked at the use of the endearment he continued to call her.  She smiled, and wondered if he knew he was using it or if it was a subconscious act.  Either way, she enjoyed the sound of it.  "These woods are part of my property.  I've always been afraid if someone found this path, they would destroy this place."

He didn't comment and she could tell he was curious where they were headed.  Caitlin took his hand and walked ahead of him until the path widened and they could walk side by side.  He was back to the somber man she had first encountered and she wondered what was going through his mind.  

She studied him while he was preoccupied with his thoughts.  He wore a black mesh cotton polo shirt tucked into tight jeans that strained against the bulging muscles of his thighs.  She marveled at how he always managed to look sexy no matter what he wore. Moving her gaze to his handsome face, she saw his brow carried a deep furrow, his lips were pursed, and his hand held hers so tight, she almost yelped with pain.    

"How much further," he asked.  He gazed down at Caitlin knowing she had been scrutinizing him.  He would have to share his thoughts with her soon, but it was something he dreaded.

"Not too much," she said as she came to a halt.  "Are you okay?  Getting tired?"  She looked him over from his shortly cropped black hair to the Rockports on his feet.  

He laughed.  "No, I'm fine."  He kissed the tip of her nose.  "Stop worrying."

She nodded and began walking again.  "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"  

He turned his head sharply.  "You're learning to read me."  He shook his head.  "That's not a good thing."

"Says you," Caitlin argued.  "You're opaque, no one can read you.  I know only that you're preoccupied."  Changing the subject, she swept her arm around, "Isn't it beautiful here?"  

The area was surrounded by a variety of trees, including Ash, Birch, Dogwood, Maple, Oak and an occasional Tamarack.  Frank listened to Caitlin as she pointed out the different varieties. 

"I have to admit, I haven't seen this many trees in some time."  He grinned at her.  

She nodded, not seeing that he was amused by the schoolmarm lilt in her voice as she told him about the foliage.  "Wait until you see what's just beyond this hill."  

"Caitlin!" He yelled as she took off running.  When he caught up to her she was standing amid a vast expanse of wildflowers not far from the bank of a small stream.  

"Isn't this wonderful?" She cried, twirling about until she became dizzy.  

He laughed as he caught her in his arms. "Sometimes you are more like a child than a woman."

The smile left her face and she pushed out of his embrace.  "Sorry for not being seriously moody, snobbish and stiff.  If that's what you prefer, look elsewhere."

Caitlin moved away from him and kneeled to run her fingers lightly over the Chokecherry flowers that littered the ground.  She drew in a deep breath to steady her as she felt Frank's hands about her waist.

"That's not what I meant, at all."  He turned her to face him and lightly grazed her cheek with his knuckles.  "You are refreshing in the fact that you are not pretentious.  You'll never know how rare that it is my life."  

Caitlin nodded, "No, I guess I'll never know that."  She would never really know anything about his life.  She sighed and moved away.  "I've never brought anyone here," she told him absentmindedly.

"Why me?" he asked earnestly.  He really screwed up, kicking himself mentally.  With one stupid remark she closed herself off to him and he wasn't sure how to fix it.

She shrugged.  "Thought you might enjoy it.  Or maybe, I was hoping you would let me in a little bit.  This place has a magical quality, I thought it might relax you."  

Donovan leaned against a tree, watching her as she walked closer to the stream.  He sighed heavily, he dreaded this, but now was the time to tell her.  "While you were getting dressed this morning, I used your computer to access my Justice Department account to send word to the Bangor Police Chief what happened.  It's time for me to go back."

"I understand."  Caitlin's back arched as she lifted her hands to run her fingers through her hair.  Her hands dropped to her sides as she turned to face him, and she fought to hold back the tears in her eyes.  

She ran to him, his outstretched arms were all the invitation she needed.  Her arms flew around his neck, her lips seeking his in desperation, desperation they both felt.  Their need, their passion and their uncertainty of the future caused the urgent demand in the kiss as they explored each other's mouth, stoking the flames of desire and need.  

Donovan pulled back, gasping for air, his heart beating wildly in his chest.  Caitlin pressed her face into his shoulder in an attempt to hide the tears that spilled down her cheeks.  "Angel," he whispered, placing a finger under her chin to raise her head.  "I can't make you any promises," he told her softly, his lips touching hers.  

"I don't want promises," she cried, "I want you.  I told myself it would be all right, that I could let you go."   She shook her head; she was doing exactly what she swore she wouldn't.  No, no, no, she told herself, it's time to let go.  

Caitlin laughed miserably, "Listen to me. 'Let you go' as if you belong to me.  I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over me."  When she finally allowed herself to look into his eyes, there was no mistaking what he felt.  He felt as wretched as she did and she wasn't making this any easier.

"Love me, Frank," Caitlin whispered, "just one more time before you go." 

Caitlin's plea hit him at his very soul.  He turned them, pushing Caitlin up against the tree.  Her eyes widened when he lifted her by the waist.  "Wrap your legs around me," he instructed her thickly.  Without question, she did as he told her.  She grasped him by the shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips.  He supported her, a strong hand firmly held her buttocks and with the other he unfastened his jeans, then moved her panties to the side and entered her with force.

She leaned back, her heat building with each wild thrust Frank gave, sending her soaring.  She was barely aware of the bark from the giant Oak biting into her back as she reveled in the savagery of his lovemaking.  

"Angel," he moaned, "you feel so good."  He new he couldn't hold out much longer, he was ready to burst inside her velvety sheath, each thrust demanding release.  

"Mmmm...yes..." she murmured.  She was lost in bliss, the throbbing ache building, building until she cried out.  "Oh, yes, Frank, yes!"  She was soaring, riding the waves that sent her to into the clouds above.

When he heard Caitlin's cry, he let go, and with one final thrust he spilled his seed within her.  He supported her as she collapsed into his embrace and they held each other, afraid to let the moment end.

Caitlin cupped his face with her hands and gazed into loving eyes.  "I..." she trailed off, shaking her head.

Frank nodded, as if he knew what she wanted to say.   He gently lowered her to the ground and kissed her briefly. "I love you, too, angel."  His gaze was steady as he waited for her reaction.

She gasped and her eyes grew wide.  "I never let myself believe you would love me, but oh, how I do love you!"  She sobbed, releasing the heartache she had harbored over her feelings.  

"I don't know what we'll do, but together we'll work it out," he assured her as he kissed her cheeks, her nose and then devoured her lips.  "I still have to leave, but I will be back for you.  I can't live without you."

"Nor me, without you," she whispered, their lips still touching.  

"I thought I could," he continued to confess his feelings to her, "and when I tried, it felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest."  He felt her shudder as he nuzzled her neck.  

"Darling, we'll find a way."  She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.  A contented sigh escaped her as she felt Frank's loving hand stroke her hair.  They would find a way.

To be continued...


	15. A Shot in the Dark - 15

Author's Note:  Same disclaimers as previous chapters 

Chapter 15

"Over here!"  Thomas Fallon called out to his longtime friend.  Once Frank Donovan was seated opposite him in the booth of his favorite diner, he let loose.  "Jesus, Frank, where the hell have you been?"

"Obviously you received my email, or you wouldn't be meeting me here."  Frank grinned.  "Thanks, just the same.  It's nice to know you care."

"Shut up, Donovan."  Tom grinned back.  He had been worried as hell over his friend's disappearance; had almost given him up for dead when his email came through.  

Donovan's gaze fell on his friend's thick fingers as they drummed the tabletop.  Tom had put on some weight since they worked together, although he carried it easily enough on his 6'5" frame.  He had some bad news to deliver to the big man, and it wasn't going to be easy to take.  

"Tom, three of your men tried to kill me."

"You still shoot from the hip, don't you, Donovan?"  Tom shook his head.  "Who are they?"

"Gregg Jeffries, Able Gentry and Steve Vance."  

"Dammit, no!  How could I not see it?"  He shook his head, as if the action would make the problem go away.  Running a hand through his thick, wavy gray hair, he asked, "You're absolutely sure?"

Donovan nodded.  "Yes.  I interrupted a drug exchange and they graciously drove me to the ocean.  They weren't taking me sightseeing."  He pulled the collar of his shirt aside to show the ugly, puckered bullet wound.

Tom pulled out his cell phone and called the station to locate Jeffries.  When he was finished he shoved the phone back into his jacket pocket.  "Jeffries, Vance and Gentry were overheard in the parking garage talking about Calais.  Do you think..."  He never finished his question.  Donovan flew out of the booth and headed for the door yelling Caitlin's name.

Bangor's Chief of Police stopped his friend as he opened the door to the Mercedes. "Don't be a fool, Donovan, you can't go alone."  He motioned for Donovan to follow him to his vehicle.

"Here, put this on," Tom instructed, handing him a Kevlar vest from the trunk of his police car.  "Best you don't go charging in where Angel's fear to tread."

Donovan pulled the mesh shirt over his head.  "That's the problem," he commented under his breath as he strapped the bulletproof vest on his chest and covered it with his shirt.

"What's the problem?" Tom watched as his friend's eyes clouded over with pain, as if he'd just been struck in the gut.

"Angel.  She's in danger if they're headed for Calais," he explained as he tucked his shirt back into his jeans, "because we were seen together in public, they'll be led right to her."

"Who's Angel?  Here, you'll need this."  He handed Donovan a Glock 32, .357-caliber semi-automatic handgun and several clips of ammunition.

"Caitlin Whitfield."  Donovan gave the gun a once-over.  "Good weapon...laser sight...perfect."

"So, Caity was the one you mentioned in the email that saved your sorry hide?"  Tom shook his head miserably.  "Dammit, Frank, her father was one of my best friends.  He was a good man, and a better father."

"Tom, we don't have time to get into this.  You obviously know where the Whitfield house is, so get your men together and meet me there...fast!"  He slapped Tom on the shoulder then headed back to the Mercedes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Randy, just tell me where she lives," Gregg demanded.  He and his partners had sought Randy out as soon as they reached Calais.  

"What did you find out about him?"  Randy was just as insistent.  He wasn't going to give up any information about Caitlin until he found out what he wanted to know.

"Look, from what you you've described of this Frank Donovan, he fits the description of a man wanted for the murder of a woman in New York."  Gregg figured the more he alarmed Randy, the more likely he would give up the Agent's whereabouts.

"Murder!"  What had Caitlin gotten herself into?  He imagined by now, Donovan had made his way into her bed, but murder?  By God, would he murder Caitlin after he had gotten his fill of her?  He couldn't take that chance.  Caitlin's best bet would be his friends, who were all police officers with the Bangor P.D.

"Do I have your word you'll take care of Caitlin?"  Randy asked as he handed Gregg the directions he scribbled on a piece of paper.

"She'll be taken care of, I assure you," Gregg said ominously, taking the paper from Randy and stuffing it into his shirt pocket.  "As will Donovan."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Donovan reached for the car phone on the dash of Caitlin's Mercedes and dialed her home.  "Answer, angel.  Come on, answer!"  

"Hello?" 

He exhaled, letting go of the breath he was holding.  "Angel, you need to get out of the house."

"Frank, what's wrong, where are you?"  His voice sounded frantic.  

"I just left Bangor.  Get out of the house, Caitlin."  No response.  "Caitlin?"

Her voice was barely a whisper.  "Frank, a car just pulled up.  Hang on..." Holding the phone against her breast, she crept to the front door to see who arrived.

"Caitlin, no!"  Frank shouted into the phone.  The lack of response told him she was investigating her visitor.

"I don't know who it is.  Three men are getting out," she whispered.  Her palms were sweating, her nerves were on edge, and fear was pounding loudly in her brain.

"Damn."  He knew whom the men were, the same three who left him for dead just a few short days ago.  Now Caitlin was in mortal danger from these men, and he was too far away to save her.

"Angel, you've got to sneak out of the house.  Hide until I can get..." the line went dead.  She hung up or they cut her phone line.  He suspected the latter. 

He pushed the accelerator to the floorboard; he still had over sixty miles before he reached Calais.  If he floored it all the way, he could make it there in thirty minutes.  He just prayed Caitlin could hide long enough for him to get to her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Frank?  Frank?"  No answer; the line was dead.  

Hide.  Hide.  Hide.  The advice Frank had given reverberated in her brain.  She crouched low and made her way to the back porch and quietly grabbed the keys to the gate from the small hook beside the screen door.  

If she could get across the road, she could hide in her secret place in the woods.  Darkness had fallen and it would be difficult for them to track her and she could watch for Frank's return from the woods.  

As silently as possible, she inserted the key into the padlock on the gate's door and inwardly groaned when the gate creaked as she opened it just far enough to squeeze through.  

Making her way around the front of the house wasn't too difficult.  The windows on the sides of the house weren't low to the ground and she was able to get past them without being seen.  She could see shadows passing from room to room as the intruders searched her home.  They were headed upstairs and if they happened to look out of the windows to check the front of the house...

Caitlin pulled the blanket of vines and branches back into place.  She moved away from the road a few yards.  She would be able to see Frank's return and also be able to spot any of the intruders if they came looking for her.  Leaning up against a tree in the darkness, she began her vigil. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"No one's here, Gregg," came a call from the upstairs.  

"What the hell?"  Jeffries was at a loss.  The lights were on, a warm cup of tea was on the kitchen counter and next to it laid a cordless telephone.  Someone was here, if not Donovan, that woman.

The man upstairs, Steve Vance, soon joined him.  The garage door opened and Able Gentry entered the kitchen.  They had been partners for six years before Jeffries had joined their precinct.  They stumbled upon him during a shakedown of a local drug dealer and threatened to expose him if he didn't let them in on the action.

One would never have thought his two partners would go in for anything illegal.  Steve had the boy-next-door look.  Tall, clean-cut, handsome, wavy brown hair, blue eyes and perfect manners when the occasion called for it.  Jeffries had seen many a woman loose herself to the devilish twinkle in his blue eyes. 

As for Able, he was the fatherly type.  At least, that was the personality he allowed the public see.  His darker personality matched the ugliness of his outward appearance.  His balding gray hair sat atop an oversized head, with a large bulbous nose, sunken hazel eyes and deep pox scars that marred his entire face.  To his further discredit, he stood only 5'2" and carried too much weight.

"So, what now?  That friend of yours could have been wrong," Gentry stated.  "Donovan could be long gone, even if he was hot for your friend's girl."  

"We'll stake the place out for a while and see who shows up," Jeffries declared.  At this point, they had no alternative.  They had to get to Donovan and the girl before Donovan had the chance to spill his guts to the Chief.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Donovan approached the bend in the road that indicated he was near the turnoff to Caitlin's house and switched off the lights on the Mercedes and eased it to a stop along the shoulder of the road.  On foot now, he treaded lightly, proceeding at a fast pace with the Glock held firmly in his grip.  He removed the safety latch and cocked the gun, now he was ready for them.

"Don't let me be too late," he whispered as he approached the trees that lined the driveway.  He used them to shield his presence and made his way to the side of the house.  He was about to head to the back by way of the gate, but was stopped by the sound of voices coming from the front door.

"They're here somewhere," Able declared.  "Why else would the lights be on?"

"I know that, Able.  That's why we're not leaving."

Donovan breathed a silent sigh of relief.  Caitlin had made it out of the house, but the danger wasn't over as long as these three were remaining to watch the house.  It was time to end this.

"Justice Department!  Hands in the air!"  Donovan commanded, stepping from the shadow of the house.

Three stunned men turned to face their enemy.  "No way, Donovan.  You're not taking us in," Jeffries assured, raising his gun.

"Don't do it.  I don't want to kill you, but I will."  

"Better dead than in prison.  You know what they do to cops in prison," Able added. 

Donovan sensed movement on the driveway from the corner of his eye.  He shouted a warning, "Stay back!"  

"The hell I will!  What have you done to Caitlin?"  

Randy.  Could this get any worse?  "You're going to get yourself killed." Donovan turned his full attention back to the corrupt cops, not realizing Randy thought he was the criminal.

"No," Randy said dryly, "You're the one who will be dead."  

Donovan barely had a chance to detect the pistol Randy raised in his direction.  Or hear the scream of dread and terror from the trees along the driveway as Caitlin emerged at a full run, heading in his direction.  In the blink of an eye, Randy discharged three shots into the darkness just as Caitlin threw herself into the line of fire and Donovan watched helplessly as she jerked with the impact of the bullets and crumpled to the ground.

* dun...dun...dun... *   To be continued...


	16. A Shot in the Dark - 16

Author's Note:  Same disclaimer as previous chapters

Chapter 16

A helicopter overhead, searchlights, and police vehicles parked all over the yard and in the driveway.  When Tom Fallon does something, he goes all the way.  It was all a blur to Donovan as he cradled Caitlin's head in his lap.  Blood, so much blood.  

Randy collapsed beside Caitlin's prone body.  "I...oh my God, what have I done?"  He sobbed into his hands.  

"Get away from her," Donovan growled before turning his attention back to Caitlin.

"Don't leave me, angel.  You're stronger than both of us, you can make it."  He was numb from head to toe.  The pain of watching her, as she was shot, it was unbearable.  Rather he was dead than deal with her leaving him.  And those eyes, they would haunt him forever.  Hers had locked onto his as she fell, the love still shone brightly in them, even as she knew she was giving up her life for his.  

There was no movement from Caitlin who lay unconscious, her breathing had become shallow, her pulse weak.  Two of the bullets had entered her upper back with no exit wounds.  The third wound, the one that scared the living hell out of him, was at the left side of her head, above her temple.  At first glance he thought it had just grazed her, but it had gone much deeper.  It didn't lodge into her skull, but that didn't mean it wasn't serious.  So much blood, he thought as he sobbed openly.

Tom crouched beside Donovan.  "Caity," he whispered as he laid a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.  "Get that damn stretcher over here!"  

At the Chief's order, a stretcher was laid next to Caitlin and she was lifted onto it and strapped down.  "Get her to the 'copter."  He pointed to the large clearing not far from the house.  "Let's go Frank, we can get her to the hospital in Calais within minutes."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The trip in the helicopter was short, and Caitlin had been rushed into emergency surgery.  Donovan sat in the waiting room, elbows on knees, his head cradled in his hands.  

"Here's some coffee."  Tom handed him a cup.  

Shaking his head, he stood and began pacing the room.  Where was that damn doctor?  It had been nearly two hours since Caitlin was taken into surgery.  

Attention turned to a young officer that entered the waiting area.  He handed Tom a slip of paper and left the room.

"Just an update.  Jeffries, Gentry and Vance have been booked for drug trafficking and the attempted murder of a Justice Department agent.  Randy Meiner is being held for aggravated assault on Caitlin."  Tom watched as his friend nodded absently.  "She'll make it, Frank."

Before he could comment, a surgeon walked in.  He was still in his blue scrubs, the cloth facemask hung around his neck and he was wringing the cloth hair covering between his hands.  "Are either of you related to Caitlin Whitfield?" 

"No," Tom answered.  "Caitlin has no family.  I'm Tom Fallon, Chief of Police, Bangor P.D. and this is Frank Donovan, Justice Department."  

The surgeon looked the two men over, the latter looked as if he was in physical pain.  He would venture to guess that Ms. Whitfield meant a great deal to him.  "I'm Dr. Phillips.  Ms. Whitfield is in recovery."

"How is she?"  Frank asked, not daring to hope for good news.

"It was touch and go for a while.  We lost her twice, but she must be a fighter, because she hung on."  He watched the pain take visible form on Donovan's face.  "The bullets in her back pierced her right lung.  At this time, we don't know if the head wound has caused any brain damage.  She's in critical condition, and when she comes out of recovery, she'll be taken to ICU.  I don't expect her to wake any time soon, gentlemen.  You might want to go home and get some rest."  With a nod, he turned and left the room.

"Lost her twice," Donovan whispered to himself.  

"She's alive, Frank.  Be thankful for that."  Tom slapped him on the back.  "Let's do as the doctor says and get some rest.  We'll come back in a few hours and check on her.  The hospital has my number, if anything happens, they'll call."

Too weak with worry to argue, Donovan let himself be ushered from the hospital.  Tom took them to a motel in town, but Donovan knew he wouldn't sleep.  How could he sleep while Caitlin struggled for her life in the hospital?  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Word traveled fast in the small town.  The waiting room was full when Donovan ventured back to the hospital a few hours after he had been ushered away.  He recognized quite a few people, including Mrs. Redman and Mr. Jenkins.  At the far side of the room, he saw little Daisy and her brother Devon sitting with their father.  Misty must be close by.

The sound of a slap to the face echoed through the corridors.  "You bastard!"  Misty's eyes held her contempt for Donovan visibly. He could almost feel the shape of a bright red handprint on his cheek. "If she dies, it's your fault!"  Her fists balled and she began to beat him on the chest.

Donovan grabbed her arms and pulled her into his embrace until she stopped flailing.  "I know better than anyone who's fault it is," he whispered into her ear.  "Don't think this isn't killing me, because it is."

Misty's husband, Jason, came to their side, along with the two children.  He held Daisy with one arm, and pulled his wife into his embrace with the other.  To everyone's amazement, little Daisy held her arms out to Donovan to take her and went easily into his arms.

"Bless the children," Mrs. Redman commented.  "How are you holding up, Mr. Donovan?" She asked as she crossed the room.

"Fine."  He lied.

"Yep, I can see that.  You look like death warmed over," she smiled sympathetically.  "The last update we had was that Caity has slipped into a coma."

"Mr. Donovan?"  

Turning, he saw the nurse standing behind him.  "I'm Donovan," he answered.  

"Come with me, please."  

Donovan handed Daisy to her mother and followed the nurse down the corridor.  She led him to the elevator and told him to take it to the fourth floor.  ICU.  He was finally going to see Caitlin.

Caitlin lay, hooked to machines all around her, looking small in the hospital bed.  Donovan sat in the chair next to the bed and took her small hand in his.  They had shaved a large section of hair from the left side of her head to treat the bullet wound.  Tubes were protruding from her mouth and nose to help her breath, and the sight of her in such a condition was enough to make a man insane.

"Angel," he whispered, "we have a lot of plans to make, you and I, so hurry and get well."  He kissed her cold, clammy hand.  "All of your friends are downstairs waiting for you.  Little Daisy's there, too.  Wouldn't you like to hold her again?  I know how much you love her."

No response.  No eyelid movement.  Nothing.  The ICU nurses told him she might respond to a voice that was dear to her, but there was no reaction. 

"I didn't tell you then, but in the ballpark, when you were holding her, I couldn't help but wish that was our child you were holding."  A sob escaped his throat.  "I love you so much, angel.  Wake up, so we can be together again.  I need to hold you, love you."

Nothing.  Just those damnable machines mocking him.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A day turned into a week, and there was very little change in Caitlin's condition.  She remained comatose, the only good news was that her body was healing and her vital signs had stabilized and she had been moved to a ward that ministered to coma patients.

Donovan remained by her side as much as the hospital staff would allow.  He spent the time talking to her of their future together or just reading to her.  He knew she was in there somewhere, and wanted to make sure she knew she was cared about.  

There was a constant flow of visitors that checked on her throughout the day and her friends had come to accept his presence and most had become friendly towards him.  Misty had been the most difficult, but her anger fled when she realized how much pain Donovan was in and how much he truly loved Caitlin.  It was Misty that entered Caitlin's room now.  

"Frank, the Sheriff is looking for you.  He wants you to meet him in his office."  When she saw the look of hesitation in his eyes, she continued, "I'll sit with her while you're gone.  Don't worry, if there's a change, I'll call the Sheriff's office."  

He nodded and leaned over Caitlin to kiss her gently on the forehead.  "I'll be back soon."  

Misty stopped him as he passed her and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.  He smiled down at her then hurried from the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hello, Sheriff.  Misty said you wanted to see me?"  Donovan sat in the chair in front of the town's Sheriff.  Tom had introduced them a couple days prior.  Peter McClain appeared to be a good man and had a genuine fondness for Caitlin, having known her since she was a child.

"Hey, Frank," he greeted Donovan with a smile. "How's Caity fairing today?"  

"Same.  No Change," he sighed, shaking his head.

"You know, she a tough kid, she'll pull through."  His smile grew as past memories invaded his thoughts.  "I remember one time, she was out with her daddy and me on a fishing trawler.  She was a little scamp; let me tell you.  She was afraid we were going after the dolphins she had seen the day before, so she threw all the rods over the side of the boat!"

Donovan laughed along with the older man.  The Sheriff was a kindly man who reminded him of Santa Claus with his white hair, beard and mustache.  He was a bit on the round side, too, for good measure.  

"I imagine you didn't think it was too funny at the time," Donovan remarked, still laughing.

"Hell, no!  But Shane, her father, he thought is was funny as all get out."  He wiped a tear from his eye.  "He just gave her a big hug and told her how proud he was that she would fight to save those precious creatures."  

"What are you trying to say, Sheriff?"  

"That, no matter the danger, Caity would fight for anyone in trouble.  It was just her nature."  He pointed a finger at Donovan.  "So, stop blaming yourself, and be strong for that little gal."

"Thanks, Sheriff."  Donovan smiled bleakly.  "Is that why you called me here?"

"No, you have a call coming in."  He motioned to the phone, the extension button flashed red.  "I'll leave you to it."

"Hey, boss, miss me?"  

"Cody."  Donovan couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"Man, have I miss your exciting repartee."  He could imagine the grin on Cody's face.

"I'm sure you have.  What can I do for you, Cody?"  

"The D.A. called.  He needs you back in Chicago for your testimony in the Petrocelli case."  

"I can't leave right now," Donovan stammered.

"The Sheriff said you wrapped up your case in Bangor."

Donovan hesitated for a moment.  "I did.  Look, I'll get right back to you."  Without a goodbye, he hung up the phone.

To be continued....  


	17. A Shot in the Dark - 17

Author's Note:  Same disclaimers as previous chapters.  This chapter contains slight spoilers to "The Siege" episode.

Chapter 17

"Jake, what do you think happened to him in Maine?" Alex whispered the question as she followed Donovan with her soft blue doe-eyes and watched as he entered his office in the upstairs of the warehouse they used as their headquarters.

Jake shrugged.  "Cody's trying to find out."  He sat opposite Alex in the area they usually held their briefings.  "All I know is that he's different.  And he's sure a helluva lot quieter, if that's possible."

Monica listened to the two undercover agents speculating on their boss' situation.  Yes, he had come back different, in the sense that he seemed to be plagued by demons, and his mind was definitely not on his work.  

He had been back nearly two weeks, needing to testify at the Petrocelli trial.  Monica had watched with surprise when he argued with the District Attorney that his testimony was not needed, that the testimony of his team would be more than adequate for the case, and he had more important business in Maine.  The D.A. was not taking any chances with the case against the deputy warden and was not letting Donovan out of it.  The inmate's siege of the maximum security prison that Petrocelli had been in charge of was high profile and the D.A. wouldn't take the chance of losing the case.

She smiled inwardly at her two coworkers.  Donovan would be slapping mad if he knew they were talking about him.  Of course, he left himself open to speculation due to the fact that he would never open up to his crew.  

Alex had taken it upon herself to solicit Cody's help in searching into Donovan's past after the death of their former leader, Agent John Keller.  She had become irked that her search for information on Donovan had dead-ended with little information, leaving much to their imagination.  In time, Alex confessed to Monica that she had realized he was a good man, although he could be a tyrant.

Jake, much as Alex, had learned to accept Donovan as the head of their undercover unit.  Cody, who was in charge of, as he put it,  "anything that plugged in" continually tried to seek a more personal relationship with him, to no avail.  It was Monica's opinion as a  profiler, that something in Donovan's past held him back from becoming too involved with the agents in his charge.  

"You know," Monica pointed out as she sat down next to Jake, "he'll most likely shoot you if he hears you talking about him."  Jake and Alex just grinned.

"Well," Cody chimed in, joining the group at the briefing table, "here's what we've got—"

When all eyes turned to him, he felt important.  It was the only time he did feel important, when he was among the team.  He always felt he was the least significant, no matter how much he knew he was needed.

"Hello, in there!" Alex broke into his thoughts, waving a hand in front of Cody's boyish face.

"Sorry."  He grinned.  "Took a small vacation.  Anyway, our beloved leader was in the midst of uncovering a drug smuggling operation run by a few crooked cops in the Bangor P.D."

"Yeah...and?"  Jake urged.

"And...somehow a woman got hurt in the crossfire.  Other than that, I couldn't get diddlysquat out of anyone."  Cody threw his hands up at the look of disbelief on his colleagues' faces.  "Don't blame me.  Those people in Maine are tightlipped, and the newspapers didn't help.  They claim everything they know is in the newspaper article."

"And it didn't give any details?" Monica asked, her dark eyes intense.

"Other than the names of the cops, it didn't mention Donovan at all, or how the whole capture went down.  Big holes in their story, and lots of 'em."  Cody reasoned.

"Damn!"  Alex cursed.  "I swear he has the uncanny ability to erase everything about his life.  It's so _very_ annoying."

A noise from a nearby console took Cody away from the group and he sat in front of the computer.  He clicked the mouse over the flashing icon indicating a videophone call was incoming.  A very attractive woman, with beautiful long auburn hair appeared on the screen.  

He clicked the mute button.  "Hey guys, maybe she's the reason boss man has been so moody!"  He released the mute button.  "Hello?"

"Um, hello."  Her eyes searched the area behind the young man that appeared on the video screen.  

Cody smiled.  She appeared nervous, and she was clearly looking for someone.  "Can I help you?" he asked, politely.

"Is a Frank Donovan there?  Tom Fallon, the Bangor police Chief gave me this number."  

Monica, Alex and Jake all stood nearby, but out of the woman's line of sight.  Monica held up a piece of paper.  "Her voice sounds frantic...frightened."  

"Hold on for a moment, I'll get him."  Cody again clicked the mute button.  "You guys better disappear, I'll go get the big guy."

Cody took the stairs two at a time and reached Donovan's office in seconds.  He rapped on the open door, "You have an urgent vid-call from Maine."

Donovan lifted his head, trying to appear nonchalant, "Who is it?"

"Didn't get her name," Cody shrugged.

"Her?  Is she a blonde?" He asked as he got up from his chair.  

"No....pretty, though."  Cody grinned.

"Oh." Donovan walked past Cody and headed down to the computer.

Cody hung back, watching his boss.  His normally straight and squared shoulders were slumped.  He looked like a man defeated and Cody wished more than ever that Donovan wasn't such a hard ass and would befriend him.  He might not be able to solve Donovan's problems, but he could be a good listener.  Maybe someday.

Donovan sat down at the console.  "Hello, Misty."  He glanced around the room, but his team had managed to make themselves scarce.  

"How are you, Frank?" 

He shrugged.  "How's Caitlin."

Misty frowned.  "Frank, so much has happened in the last day."

"Misty, what is it?  Damn! I should be there," he uttered, rubbing his hand over his jaw.  He called the hospital several times a day, as well as a few of Caitlin's friends, including Misty, but it wasn't the same as being there.

Misty nodded.  "You should, you know.  But, I'm afraid it wouldn't have made any difference."

"What are you telling me, Misty?"  His voice had grown frantic.  He could feel a well of hysteria building inside.  

"It all happened so fast, Frank.  It still feels like a dream...or a nightmare."  Misty sobbed into her hands.

"Misty, _please_!"  The dread of not knowing what was happening was almost as bad as the night Caitlin was shot.

"I'm sorry," she said as she wiped her eyes.  "Caitlin came out of her coma last night..."

"Thank, God!  Jesus, you scared me.  I thought you were going to tell me she died."  He was overjoyed and was barely aware that a tear slid down his cheek.

"That's not all of it."  Misty shook her head.  "This is so hard.  Why did you have to get so close to her? Why?"

"Dammit, Misty, I don't have to justify my actions with or feelings for Caitlin to you or anyone else.  Now tell me what the hell is going on!"  He watched Misty's eyes widen at his harsh tone.

"You're wrong there, Mister.  Caitlin didn't stand a chance against you, and she lost herself completely to you.  And you know what I'm talking about, so don't you deny it."  Misty's accusing eyes blazed through the monitor.

"No, I won't, but you're straying from the point of this conversation.  How is Caitlin?" He demanded.

"Caitlin is a shell, there's no one there."  Misty pointed to her own heart.

"I don't understand."  He shook his head; Misty was confusing him to the point of madness.

"If you had been here, you would have seen.  It was...just...awful."  Misty began crying again.  "I was sitting with her when she woke up.  It was amazing, really, her eyes just opened like she had been asleep for a few hours.  She smiled at me, looked around the room and then it was like reality crashed in on her as the memories flooded back."  

Frank nodded.  "That would be expected, wouldn't it?  So, she remembers what happened that night?"  He wondered if she would be angry with him when she realized what she went through in her attempt to save him.

Misty shrugged.  "No one knows what she remembers.  It was so surreal, her waking up, that is.  One second she's smiling, the next...oh my god...the scream.  I'll never forget it.  And the blood...all that blood."

"What in the hell are you talking about?!" He had come out of the chair, glaring into the monitor.  

Misty was beyond sobs, crying audibly, tears streaming down her face.  "My God, Frank!  She was pregnant!  The stress from the coma, or waking up and remembering...I don't know...but it caused a miscarriage.  The blood...how she screamed..."  Misty's voice trailed.

Stunned, he sat back in the chair and stared blankly into the monitor.  "Oh, angel..."  

"She knew, Frank, no one told her about the miscarriage.  In her heart she knew she lost your child and it broke her."  Misty wiped her eyes.  "Now, Mr. Donovan, don't you dare tell me it's none of my business."

"Pregnant," he whispered.  He had lost his heart to Caitlin, and obviously he had lost his mental capacity as well.  He never once thought about protection, and that was not like him.  He knew the score; an innocent schoolboy he was not.  The point was moot, he told himself, and now Caitlin was suffering more for his indiscretion.  

He knew how she loved children, and the loss of a child would be devastating to anyone, him included, but more so for Caitlin.  His heart ached from the loss of a child that would never be, but Caitlin's well-being was more important than anything at this time.

"Was she in a lot of pain?"  

His voice was barely audible and Misty had to strain to hear him.  "I really don't know.  She didn't start screaming until she saw the blood soaking the sheets."

He nodded.  "And now?"

"And now, she...she's catatonic.  She sits and stares, doesn't speak, doesn't move.  It's eerie."  Misty paused for a moment.  "Get back here, Frank."

He merely nodded then terminated the call.  He wasn't sure how long he sat there, staring at the blank screen, but he finally spoke.  "You can come out now."

To be continued...


	18. A Shot in the Dark - 18

Author's Note:  Same disclaimers as previous chapters 

Chapter 18

Donovan could hear Cody descending the staircase from behind.  Monica, Alex and Jake soon rounded the corner; they had been waiting in the gym.  All looked distressed as they approached their boss and Jake was the first to speak.

"Sorry, Frank.  It's not a good excuse, but we were so curious," he stammered, shaking his head.  "We never imagined it would be so personal.  We thought it related to the drug smuggling case you were on."

Donovan took a moment before he acknowledged his team.  "In a way, it did relate to the case," he told them as he moved from the computer to the briefing table.  "The woman on the vid-call, Misty Asher, is a friend of the woman who was wounded during the arrest of three cops that ran the drug operation in Bangor."

Alex put a comforting hand on his shoulder as she sat beside him and she heard a heavy sigh escape him.  Frank Donovan wasn't a machine after all, she realized.  

He smiled weakly at Alex before continuing.  "Caitlin Whitfield is the woman who was wounded.  She saved my life after I was shot by those cops.  She took care of me without help or alerting anyone to my real identity."  He smiled as memories of her flooded his mind. 

"Sounds like a tough cookie," Cody commented.

Frank nodded.  "She is that, and more."  This was exhausting, he thought.  He hated to talk about himself, let alone his _feelings_.  He knew he was about to sound like a lovesick puppy, but maybe it was time to spill his guts no matter how he sounded.  The only thing he feared was losing the respect of these people; respect that had taken him so much time to earn.

Jake, Cody and Monica took seats around the table.  "We gathered by the call that a lot happened between you and this Caitlin," Monica gently prodded.

Again, he nodded.  "I've never met anyone like her," he confessed.  "I think I was lost to her the minute I laid eyes on her."  A desolate laugh escaped him.  "So, how do I repay her love after she took such care of me?  I leave her fighting for life in a hospital to testify at some reprobate's trial."

"The D.A. didn't give you a choice," Alex interjected.  She watched as Cody quietly left the table and went to his computer.  The sounds of rapid key clicks echoed through the quiet warehouse.

"It shouldn't have made a difference," he countered.  "Caitlin should have been my only concern."  I'm such a fool, he thought to himself.

"I'll be honest," Monica admitted, "it's hard to imagine you putting your duty aside for anything.  The job has always been your life; you're just getting to know a different side of yourself.  Maybe you should give yourself a break."  She smiled warmly at her all-too-human boss.  "Life is full of second chances.  If this woman loves you; she'll give you one."

Cody walked back to the table and handed Donovan a sheet of paper.  "It's your e-ticket," he explained with a grin when Frank shot him a questioning look.  "Your flight leaves in three hours."

"What about my testimony?"  Not that he cared; he had already made up his mind that he was going back as soon as he could make the arrangements.  Cody just sped up the departure time.

"Hey, we were there, remember?" Jake reminded him.  "They already have our testimonies.  They also have your signed report, your deposition, and if I remember correctly, they video taped it."  

"That's right," Alex agreed.  "If that isn't enough for the D.A, then he doesn't deserve his job."  

Donovan smiled genuinely.  "Thank you, everyone."  His eyes twinkled.  "I hope I still have a job with you when I get back; it would be awful to have break in a new team."  

"Don't worry," Cody feigned seriousness, "no one else would have you."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He approached the nurse's station with apprehension.  It seemed like an eternity since he left Chicago and was met at the Bangor airport by Tom Fallon.  Tom had insisted driving him to Calais, and the drive seemed incessantly long, with his friend trying to lift his mood with senseless chatter.  He had never been so happy to see the little town.  Tom decided to pay a visit to Sheriff McClain, and Donovan headed on to the hospital alone.

Caitlin's room had been empty and he was in the process of going to the nurse's station to ask her whereabouts when Mrs. Redman rounded the corner.  

"Mr. Donovan!"  She gave him a soft hug.  "Thank God you're back.  No one's been able to break through to Caity, but surely you will."

"I hope so," he sighed.  "How is she?"

Mrs. Redman smiled encouragingly, "As far as the doctor's can determine, she's fine.  Thankfully she suffered no brain damage and as for her lung, she's healing."  

"Good news," he muttered.  "Her room is empty.  Do you know where she is?"

She nodded.  "I just left her with Misty in the hospital park.  It's just down that hall, to your left.  Can't miss the exit sign," she explained as she pointed the way out to Donovan.

He nodded his thanks and went in search of Caitlin.

As he opened the door leading to the outdoors, he glanced around the small park and spotted Caitlin instantly.  She was seated in a wheelchair beside a park bench.  Misty sat next to her on the bench, a book in her hand.  She was reading to Caitlin.  

He slowly approached the pair; Caitlin sat with her left side clearly in view.  Caitlin's hair was combed so that it covered the bald patch of hair on the left side of her head, but the wind picked up just then, blowing her hair about her face, revealing the small bandage that covered her wound.  The wind was whipping the dark green nightgown that she wore around her ankles, and Donovan watched as Misty pulled the white bathrobe back over her legs and then put a blanket over her lap.

"Frank," Misty whispered, looking up as a shadow fell over her.  "I'm glad you came."

"Thanks.  How is she?"  He asked as he crouched in front of the wheelchair and gazed into Caitlin's lifeless green eyes.  In all his years, through all the horrors he'd witnessed, he had never seen anything so heart wrenching as the sight of Caitlin as she was now.

Misty threw up her hands.  "Like I told you, it's like no one's in there."  

Donovan covered one of Caitlin's hands with his.  Although her skin was warm enough, it was as if he was touching a stranger, the instantaneous heat he'd always felt with her was gone.

"Angel...Angel, can you hear me?" He asked as he studied her face.  There was no sign of recognition, no trace of movement.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.  "I'm sorry I left you, I know it's been horrible for you. Can you forgive me?"  Nothing.

He stood and quickly picked Caitlin up from the wheelchair and sat down on the bench with her across his lap.  Her head rested against his shoulder, his chin touching the top of her head.  She was stiff and unmoving in his arms as he gently stroked her hair.  

He looked at Misty with unshed tears in his eyes.  He never felt so helpless; he had no idea how to reach her.  He wished there were some magic spell that would undo all the bad that had happened to this lovely creature.

He stood again; Caitlin secured firmly in his arms and began walking from the hospital grounds.  He heard Misty running after him, her voice frantic, but he didn't stop.  

"Frank, where do you think you're going?" She demanded.

"I have an idea, Misty," he started to explain, while he continued to leave the grounds.  "I can't reach her here, but there may be a place."

Misty pleaded.  "What if something goes wrong?  What if you put her in danger?"  

He shrugged, causing Caitlin's head to bounce against his shoulder.  "It's a chance I have to take.  Do this - - have the hospital get an ambulance ready, if something happens, I'll call you and they can be there in minutes."  He watched as Misty's worried expression intensified.  "I'll call you either way."

He fumbled with the passenger door of Tom's Blazer for a moment and gently placed Caitlin in the seat, strapping her in securely.  He stared at her for a moment, taking in her mannequin like qualities.  The sight of her like this was sickening and his stomach rolled with pity for her and loathing for himself.

He ran to the driver's side, pausing for a moment before entering the vehicle.  "There is one other thing you could do," he told Misty.  When her eyes questioned him he merely said, "Pray."  

To be continued...


	19. A Shot in the Dark - 19

Author's note: Same disclaimers as previous chapters 

Chapter 19

Donovan eased the Blazer to a stop at the end of the driveway and reached over to undo Caitlin's seatbelt.  She stared straight ahead and in her line of vision sat the house she adored, but still there was no sign of cognizance.   

He sighed heavily as he exited the Blazer and walked to the back of the vehicle and lifted the rear hatch.  Dusk was approaching rapidly; he wondered how prepared Chief Fallon kept himself.  Donovan wasn't surprised when he found what he was looking for – a Coleman lantern.  He grabbed it along with a thin blanket, closed the hatch and went to the passenger door to get Caitlin.

"Come on, angel, time to go," he said, with a cheerfulness he didn't feel as he placed the blanket on Caitlin's lap.  He lifted Caitlin easily into his arms, at the same time picked the lantern up that he had placed on the floorboard by her feet.  Kicking the door shut, he turned toward the road, looking for the hidden entrance to the secluded spot in the forest that Caitlin held so dear.

"I have to hand it to you," he told her as he crossed the road, "you did a good job hiding that path."  He couldn't help but chuckle when it took him a few more moments to locate the wall of vines.  

The cover of the trees made the forest appear darker, and he was thankful for the lantern.  It would be his luck that he would trip over a protruding root and send Caitlin flying.  He wouldn't want to explain that to Misty, remembering the slap she gave him in the hospital that day.  He grinned.  She sure packed a wallop behind that slap and actually left a bruise on his cheek.

He could hear the sound of a stream, so he knew he was almost upon the spot Caitlin had shown him that fateful day.  

He stopped briefly when he came to the large Oak tree they had made love against that day.   "I long to feel your love again, angel," he whispered to her.

He moved into the midst of the wildflowers and slowly lowered himself to the ground, cradling Caitlin in his lap; her face lay gently against his chest.  He sat the lantern nearby and covered Caitlin's legs with the blanket.  

He was at a loss.  "I don't know, angel," he confessed as if she was listening intently, "what the hell I expected.  Maybe that you would see this place and bang!  You'd jump into my arms and be your old self again."  

He shook his head.  "Yeah, I know," he said, kissing the top of her head, "I'm a fool.  But I love you, so I'll try anything."

He plucked a small stem of a white wildflower.  "What did you call this?  Chokecherry; smells nice."  He held it to her nose for a moment before tucking it behind her ear.  

"So, here's the thing," he said. "Since I don't know what to do to help you, I think I'll just hold you close and ramble.  Let's see, let me tell you about the people in my undercover unit."

"There are two women.  Monica Davis is our profiler.  She's African-American and so intelligent, sometimes it scares me.  Then there's Alex Cross, her ability to disguise herself and blend in with any scenario is uncanny.  You'd like them, honey.  They are wonderful ladies."  He began to rock her in his arms.

"Now, Jake Shaw, he's a tough street kid.  He's not a kid; don't get me wrong.  When I first met him I thought he was a cocky so-and-so, but he's got a good head on his shoulders."  He paused to take a deep breath and look down into Caitlin expressionless face.  

"Cody...what can I say, angel.  I think you would like Cody the most.  If I know you, you would find his wacky sense of humor and extreme bad timing endearing.  He does grow on you, that's for sure."  

"Cody always wanted to know the man behind the tough exterior I showed, but I'm not sure who that man is.  I'm different when I'm with you," he admitted.  

"You make me feel alive inside.  I know I don't want to lose that feeling," he confessed.  He realized sometime during his ramblings he had begun to cry, silent tears that slid unchecked down his cheeks.  "But if you would just wake up out of this stupor, and you told me that you blamed me and wanted me out of your life forever...I would go.  Even if it meant dying inside, I would do it.  I am to blame, you know, not you.  That's why you left, isn't it?  Because you blame yourself?  Well, you're wrong, honey.  I'm the one to blame."

Darkness, like the murky ocean water, surrounded Caitlin.  She was so tired of struggling, why won't the ocean just swallow her and let her find peace?  She tried to remember how she had gotten stranded in the ocean during this storm.  

Everything was fuzzy, like she had no memories of her life, only blurry pictures.  "Well," she thought, "I must have made it to the surface because I can feel the rain on my face now."  She heard a voice in the distance; someone had found her!  

Frank thought he was dreaming when he felt Caitlin stir in his arms.  She lifted a hand to her face to wipe the tears that had fallen from his cheek to hers.  

"No...blame."  Her voice was barely a whisper.  

"Caitlin?"  

Caitlin stared blankly into his eyes and didn't respond.  Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him and she hadn't really moved or spoke.  

"Crying," she said, her eyes still staring into his.

"What?" His heart was beating so hard and his pulse so loud in his ears; he had to strain to hear the slight sound of her voice.

She lifted a hand to his cheek and brushed away his tears.  "Why are you crying, Frank?"

"Oh, angel!" He cried as he crushed her to him.  "You're back."

"Did I go somewhere? I'm so confused," she said as she struggled to sit upright.  Looking around the area.  "What are we doing here?"

"I thought it might help bring you around."

She shook her head.  "First I went away and then you had to bring me around?  Why am I having such a hard time..." 

"Caitlin, are you all right?"  He asked when her face went pale.

She shook her head and her eyes filled with tears.  "Oh, Frank...I just remembered what happened that night.  Randy was going to kill you."

"Oh, honey, why did you run out of those trees?"  He kissed her eyelids and followed the trail of the tear with his lips.

"I couldn't just stand there and watch him shoot you."  The touch of his lips on her skin was comforting and, at the same time, set her emotions on edge.  There was something else...

"Angel, I had a vest on, he probably wouldn't have hurt me seriously."  He frowned, not sure how much she remembered and if he should even mention what happened in the hospital.

"Oh, guess I should have known that, you being who you are and everything."  She smiled.  "Did that make sense?  My head is so fuzzy."

He laughed.  "It made sense enough to me."

"Good," she said, bringing her hands up to her head.  "My head hurts."  Her eyes grew wide when she felt the bandage and the shaven hair that was beginning to grown back.

Donovan took her hand and held it to his chest.  "When you ran of those trees, you took three bullets for me.  But don't worry; you're fine.  You had a collapsed lung, and quite a nasty wound to your head, but you're making a full recovery."

"If you say so," she smiled.  

"Shouldn't I be in the hospital?" She asked, when she remembered where they were.  "Don't get me wrong, I love this place, but if I've just been shot..."

"Angel, that was about three weeks ago. You were in a coma until yesterday."  Inwardly he cringed wondering if she would remember what sent her into her catatonic trance.

"You're not telling me something, Frank Donovan," she accused.  "Something I should know, because it's gnawing at the back of my brain.  Something bad, I suspect."

He nodded.  "I could lie and tell you no, hoping you wouldn't remember."  He saw her eyes darken with anger.  "But if you remember on your own, you'll only hate me more because I lied to you."

"Hate you?"  She was stunned that he would think she could ever hate him.  "My mind is all muddled, but I'm sure I love you."  

"And I love you.  But when you realize the full extent of what you went through, what you lost in the attempt to save me, I think you will hate me."  

Caitlin saw the pain in his eyes, the torment he was going through.  Nothing could make her hate this man, what would make him think that?  Her head throbbed and it was hard to think straight.  "Help me remember, please."

He nodded.  His need to help her far outweighed his fear of losing her.  "Do you remember waking up in the hospital?"  When Caitlin shook her head, he continued, "Misty was with you."  He watched Caitlin's eyes fill with recognition.  

"I remember now.  Misty was sitting in the chair next to my bed.  She was reading the newspaper out loud.  Then...then..." Caitlin sobbed into her hands and collapsed against Frank's chest.  

"Shhhh, it's going to be all right, angel."  He ran a soothing hand over her back.  

"A baby.  I lost a baby," she cried.  "Your baby."  

Caitlin flung her arms around his neck and Donovan pulled her close.  "I know, sweetheart.  Your body had been through so much trauma, it was too much for you."

He loosened her grip around his neck to see her face.  "Don't leave me again, angel.  You went so far away, no one could reach you."

"I'm sorry.  It just hurt so much in here," she said as she patted her chest.  "My heart ached when I realized what was happening."  

"There will be other children," he assured her.

"Will there?" She shook her head.

"Honey, we have our whole lives ahead of us."  

"Oh, you do have a way with words, sir."   She grinned.  "Now, shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, Miss Caitlin!" He laughed then lightly covered her lips with his and kissed her, a sweet, comforting kiss.  

"You can do better than that, if I recall." Caitlin's eyes twinkled.  

"Well, I'm sure I could, but if I don't call Misty and get you back to the hospital, I'm not sure I'll live to do any better."  He reached in his pocket for his cell phone.  "Be patient, angel." 

To be continued...


	20. A Shot in the Dark - 20

Author's note:  Same disclaimers as previous chapters 

The poem contained in this chapter are song lyrics written by Lars Halapi and S. Edkvist.  The song is titled "I'll Remember You" and can be found on the self-titled CD by Sophie Zelmani.  No infringements intended.

I would like to take a moment to thank those of you who have followed Frank and Caitlin through their journey.  A special thank you to the ladies I work with who have given me nothing but encouragement.  And to those who posted such kind reviews –Kha and Sarah (fellow OFEB members)—you guys have been so supportive!,  Serena (fellow OFH member), Deana (it was wonderful bumping into you in the chat room--  lol), Dani J (you are an inspiration all unto yourself), Ann, Haley, Patty, Kathy, Mommints, Tanith, Yarvarni, and Janice (I think you grew as fond of Caitlin/Frank as I did ^_^) –Bless you all!  You made this story a labor of love, literally!!!  :-)

Chapter 20

"God, I'm exhausted," Alex complained as she and her four teammates lumbered through the doorway of their headquarters.

"Tell me about it!" Cody agreed.

"What are you talking about?  Sitting behind a computer can't be that exhausting!" Jake argued.  "Donovan, Alex and I did all the hard work."  

"Stop fighting, children," Monica laughed.  "We're all tired.  

"Humph!" Alex plopped into a nearby chair.  "At least the three of you in the cozy van didn't have to walk around in stiletto heels and hang out with prostitutes trying to get information on a local drug dealer and, not to mention, almost get the crap beat out of her by her loving pimp."  She began to rub her feet.  "Man, my dogs are barking."

Jake looked sheepish.  "Sorry Alex...had to make it look good."

"Yeah, well you can rub the soreness out of my feet then."  She made a face at Jake and stuck her tongue out.

A loud noise from the couch caught their attention. All eyes turned to see Donovan splayed out on the couch...asleep.

"He snores!" Cody observed, holding his sides trying not to laugh.  "Damn, he sounds like a fog horn."

"Shut up!" Monica said, holding her hand over her mouth, the laughter bubbling over.

"Oh, man!  I'm too tired to drive home...he'll keep me up all night!" Jake complained, covering his ears.

"No he won't," came a voice from behind.

Everyone turned to see a young blonde standing in the doorway that led to the gym.

Jake drew his gun.

"Please, I've been shot enough lately," she smiled, putting her hands up.

"Who are you?" Alex demanded.

"Caitlin Whitfield.  We haven't had the opportunity to meet since I've been in town, sorry."  Caitlin smiled playfully as another snore ripped through the otherwise quiet interior of the room.

"How'd you get in here?"  Jake asked.

Caitlin nodded toward the couch.  "Sleeping beauty, there.  He gave me the access codes."

"He must have a lot of trust in you, Miss Whitfield," Monica observed.

Caitlin shrugged, "He trusts me with his life." When she saw the frowns crease their brows she said, "Those are his words not mine."  

Another loud snore interrupted the interrogation.

Caitlin grinned.  "So, do you want the snoring to stop or not?"

"Please!" They all said in unison.

Caitlin quietly walked over to Frank.  She picked up a pillow he had pushed onto the floor and leaned over and blew a gentle breath into his ear.

Frank smiled in his sleep, rolled onto his side and reached out his arms.  "Mmmm...come here, baby," he murmured in his sleep.  

Caitlin stepped aside and held the pillow in front of her.  She smiled tenderly as Frank clutched the pillow to his chest.

She turned back to the others, quietly walking away from Frank so as to not disturb him.  They had a befuddled look mixed with amazement and amusement.  "Easy as pie," she told them.  "He just likes to hold on to something when he sleeps."  

"A pillow is a poor substitute for who he was reaching for." Cody joked.

Caitlin smiled.  "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," he acknowledged.

"Well, now that your torment is over, why don't you all rest a while?'  Caitlin suggested.  "I saw those cots set up in the next room.  You must crash here from time to time."  

They all nodded.  "If you don't mind, Miss Whitfield," Jake began but was interrupted by Caitlin.

"Please, call me Caitlin...or Caity, like most of my friends do.  I'm hoping we can be friends."  Her eyes were unsure as they looked over the group.  She had convinced herself Frank's team would find her an intrusion.  

"Caity it is, then!" Jake smiled.  "If you're sure you don't mind...I can hardly keep my eyes open."

Caitlin nodded.  "Please, go get some rest.  I'll watch over Frank and make sure he doesn't start snoring again."

Monica laughed.  "Thank you!  And that's some trick you have, girl.  I'll have to give it a try sometime."

Caitlin laughed.  "Yeah.  Frank said it sure beats a sharp elbow to his ribs."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Several hours later, Alex woke and walked to the outer room.  She was in need of a cigarette and a strong cup of coffee.  She found Caitlin asleep at the briefing table, her head resting on her folded arms.  She noticed a legal pad in front of the young woman and picked it up out of curiosity.

Her eyes grew wide and she inhaled quickly.  "Oh, boy...this is gonna kill him."

"Kill who?" Jake whispered from behind, rubbing his eyes still heavy from sleep.

Cody and Monica trailed behind.  "What's going on?" Cody asked.  "Alex woke me up when she bumped into my cot."

Jake nodded, "Me too.  Can't find her way in the dark, I guess."

"Shhh....look at this.  I found it next to Caitlin, she must have wrote it while we were sleeping." 

They all huddled around Alex, reading over her shoulder.

_It's daybreak _

_And you are asleep_

_I can hear you breathe now_

_Your breath is deep_

_But before I go_

_I look at you one last time_

_I can hear a heart beat_

_Is it yours or is it mine?_

_I look at your lips_

_I know how soft they can be_

_Do they know what they wanted_

_The times they kissed me?_

_And your hands_

_That I held in mine_

_Now they're reposing on the pillow_

_Will they ever miss me sometime?_

_I'll remember you_

_You will be there in my heart_

_I'll remember you_

_Now that is all that I can do_

_But I'll remember_

_Your eyes_

_That always make me shiver_

_Now they are closed_

_They just sometimes twitch a little_

_And your body_

_I could own for an hour_

_It sends me to heaven_

_With its heat and power_

_I'll remember you_

_You will be there in my heart_

_I'll remember you_

_Now that is all that I can do_

_But I'll remember_

Jake let out a long breath.  "Wow, it sure sounds like a 'Dear Frank' letter, even if it is written in pretty words."

Monica nodded.  "And I thought things were going so well between them."

"They were.  Can you believe it?  Frank told us in the van tonight he was going to ask her to marry him." Cody informed them.

"What's going on?"

"Frank!" Alex exhaled as she turned to see him awake, sitting up on the couch.  She quickly hid the pad behind her back.

"Yes, Alex, I think we all know who I am."  He smiled, softening his sarcastic comment.  He saw Caitlin asleep at the table.  "Angel?"

"She was protecting us from the deadly fog horn monster," Cody stated with all seriousness.

"What?"  Frank was perplexed.

"Never mind."

"Alex, what's wrong with you?  You look like a cat cornered by a pack of angry dogs."  He watched Alex shuffle her weight from foot to foot.  Her head hung low and she wouldn't look at him.

"Nothing."

He walked to her, stopping directly in front of her, staring down into her blue eyes.  Without warning, he reached behind her and snatched the legal pad from her hands.

Monica ushered her teammates out of the room.  "Come on, let's go make some coffee," she suggested as Frank began reading the note.

Frank read the writings over and over, his pain and humiliation growing with each reading.  She was leaving him!  She had been in Chicago less than two weeks and had already given up.  _And here I was, going to ask you to marry me tonight,_ he thought.  

~_Wham!_~ The pad landed with a thud and slid across the table until it met with Caitlin's forearm and startled her awake.  She sat up, rubbing her eyes.  She smiled up at Frank until she saw the angry look on his face.

"What's wrong?  Is it because I came here without you?"  When he didn't answer, she continued, "I just wanted to surprise you."

"Well, that you did," he said angrily.

She stood up quickly and the chair toppled over behind her.  "Well, if you didn't want me to come here, you shouldn't have given me the access codes."  She jerked the chair to an upright position and slammed it into the table.

"Don't give me that, Miss Whitfield."  He picked up the legal pad and handed it to her.  "Is this the way you try to work things out with me?  Two weeks and you've had it?  You're leaving?"

"Of course, I'm leaving."  Caitlin held back the smile that was tugging at her lips.  _Lord, she thought,__ he's forgotten already._

"Fine," he sighed, resigned to his fate.  "I should have known it wouldn't last."  He took the pad back from her and tossed it back onto the table.  "I won't beg you to stay."

"I should hope not, you told me you didn't mind if I left."  She knew she was torturing him, but it was his own fault for not having faith in her...not to mention his short-term memory.

"What in the hell are you talking about?" He demanded

"You big oaf," she smiled, twining her arms around his neck.  "Tomorrow is Devon's birthday.   I promised Misty I would come home to help celebrate."

Recollection slowly dawned, and Frank felt like an idiot.  "But that poem..."

Caitlin stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his.  "I was just lamenting over how much I would miss you while I was gone."  She moaned as he kissed her deeply, crushing her to his chest.  His kiss told her what words could not alone express, his passion, his devotion, and his promise of undying love.  

"I don't really _have to go," she said, breathless from his kiss.  Nothing seemed as important as being in his arms, and the promise of ecstasy he always brought to her._

"Sorry, angel.  It sounded like a final goodbye," he whispered in her ear before nibbling on the delicate flesh of the lobe.  

"Forget it, Donovan," she said, her voice low and husky.  "You'll never get rid of me."

Donovan ushered her toward the door.  "As is should be," he said.  "How much time do we have before you have to get to the airport?"

"Why, Frank Donovan, whatever do you have in that nasty mind of yours?"  She asked, her voice full of amusement.

"I think you're the one with the nasty mind, you little devil."  He stopped her at the doorway.  "I have something to ask you, I just prefer we be alone."  He watched as a smile lit her face, realizing she somehow knew exactly what he was going to ask.

Caitlin smiled lovingly into the eyes of her man.  "Whatever it is, my love, the answer is yes."  

The End...for now.


End file.
